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M. VIRGINIA SUTTON 






































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FOLK-LORE BOOKS 
By WILLIAM E. GRIFFIS 


Swiss Fairy Tales 

An entirely new sheaf of stories 

Dutch Fairy Tales 

A mine of legend and child-lore 

Belgian Fairy Tales 

Showing manners and customs of the 
people themselves 

Fire Fly’s Lovers 

Japanese fairy tales 

The Unmannerly Tiger 

Korean fairy tales 

Welsh Fairy Tales 

(In preparation) 

Each book illustrated in color 
THOMAS Y. CROWELL CO., NEW YORK 





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Swiss Fairy Tales 


By 

WILLIAM ELLIOT GRIFFIS 

Author of “ The Firefly s Lovers,” ll The Unmannerly Tiger” 
“ Dutch Fairy Tales,” “ Belgian Fairy Tales,” etc. 


NEW YORK 

THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 

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Copyright, 1920, 

By Thomas Y. Crowell Co. 


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DEDICATED 


IN RADIANT MEMORIES 
OF MY SWISS MATERNAL ANCESTRY 
NEAR VALLEY FORGE 

FROM WHOSE LIPS I FIRST HEARD STORIES OF 
WASHINGTON, LAFAYETTE, STEUBEN 
AND OF SWITZERLAND 
THE LAND OF THE EDELWEISS 



































Contents 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. How Swiss Fairy Tales Came to 

America 1 

II. The Swiss Home Near Valley Forge 16 

III. The Wonderful Alpine Horn . . 28 

IV. The Whimsical Avalanche .... 39 

V. The Mountain Giants 48 

VI. The Dwarf and His Confectionery 56 

VII. Two Good Natured Dragons ... 66 

VIII. The Frost Giants and the Sunbeam 

Fairies 77 

IX. The Fairy in the Cuckoo Clock . 91 

X. The Castle of the Hawk .... 101 

XI. The Yodel Carillon of the Cows . 110 

XII. The Tailor and the Giant . . . 118 

XIII. The Dwarf’s Secret 132 

XIV. The Fairy of the Edelweiss . . . 144 

XV. The Avalanche That Was Peace 

Maker 157 

XVI. The Fairies and Their Playground 168 

XVII. The. Kangaroo Poa 181 

XVIII. The Swiss Fairies in Town Meeting 191 

XIX. The Palace Under the Waves . . 201 

XX. The Alpine Hunter and His Fairy 

Guardian 209 

XXI. The Fairies’ Palace Car .... 221 

XXII. The White Chamois 235 

XXIII. The Siren of the Rhine . . . .241 

XXIV The Ass That Saw the Angel . . 250 



Swiss Fairy Tales 


I 

HOW SWISS FAIRY TALES CAME 
TO AMERICA 

L ET us pretend that we are sitting on a 
stool, a hassock, a rug, or the floor, 
around the chair of grandmother Hess, 
to which place all young folks are hereby in- 
vited. We shall go with her, in fancy, to the 
home of the Swiss family Harby, for that was 
her maiden name, at Barren Hill, in what the 
Swiss folks called “the Pennsylvanias.” For 
they loved the forests and they knew that the 
name meant the groves or woods of Penn. They 
kept always, in their minds, the idea of trees. 
It was there that some of these fairy and other 
tales were first told. 

It was long ago, during the Revolutionary 
war, when Washington, and Lafayette, and 
Steuben, were comrades at Valley Forge. This 


2 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


place was only a few miles away, and the great 
men rode often past the house and farm of J ohn 
Harby, who was grandma’s father. 

When, in 1778, the Hessians and red coats 
could not capture Lafayette, with his Continen- 
tal soldiers, they stole the bread out of the oven 
and drank up the milk from the spring house. 

The little girls, Sarah, Hannah and Margaret, 
often heard from their grandfather and grand- 
mother about Switzerland, whence, following 
William Penn, they had come. Their kinsfolk 
still lived in the old land across the sea. When 
the Revolutionary war was over, their father, 
John Harby, came to the Quaker City, and kept 
a hotel. There, when Philadelphia was the na- 
tional capital, he entertained members of Con- 
gress and the refugee French noblemen. 

When the story teller heard the once little 
maids talk about things Swiss, and Hessian, and 
British, and Pennsylvanian, these three, two of 
whom the Hessians had once scared into the gar- 
ret, were dear old ladies. Sitting up in bed, or 
in her chair, as straight as her rheumatism and 
her bent fingers would allow, grandmother told 
us many a tale of Swiss ancestral and Revolution- 
ary times. 

To the end of the years of her life, which lasted 
from 1770 to 1866, her sister Hannah, our 
maiden aunt, sang the songs, played on the piano 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


3 

the ditties, and danced the minuets and waltzes, 
which the French officers and noblemen had 
taught her when the Quaker city, from 1790 to 
1800, was the national capital. 

We children, even when big girls and boys, 
and ready for college, enjoyed the fun, the music, 
and the stories. It was from these dear old 
ladies that the story teller learned to love the 
mountains, and to climb them, in America and 
J apan, and, for weeks a a time, to tramp among 
them in glorious Switzerland. 

The ancestral Swiss home was in a valley of 
the Bernese Oberland, under the shadow of a 
high mountain. In winter, which usually lasted 
seven months or more, the people, the boys, and 
the girls, the cows, goats, donkeys, horses, 
chickens, and all living things were shut in by 
heavy snows. Quite often in winter, daddy and 
the boys had to climb out the windows onto the 
snows that were piled, or drifted, many feet high 
against the door. Even on May day, spoiling 
fun outdoors, there might come a storm which 
left six or eight feet of snow. 

Yet when the sun got up early in the morn- 
ing, and the south wind blew with a quiet force 
that did more in a day’s work than a million 
steam shovels, the snow melted, and soon the 
green meadows were spangled with red and blue, 
yellow and white flowers. 


4 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


When June came, the big boys got ready, with 
their fathers and hired men, to leave their vil- 
lage home, and go up to spend the whole sum- 
mer on the spicy pastures, that is, the Alps, high 
up on the mountains, to stay until near October. 
There the bees would gather honey from the nec- 
tar in the blossoms, and cows would feed on the 
sweet juices of the grass. It was at this season 
that the milk, cream, butter and cheese, were the 
very best of the year. Many a growing boy, 
counting on his fingers the days, looked forward 
for months to life outdoors, on the highlands, 
among the birds, the butterflies and the wild ani- 
mals. As for the cattle, they could sniff the sweet 
aroma of the flowery fields and grasses at a dis- 
tance and long before men could. 

The day of the great cow parade, when the 
other four-footed animals, dogs, goats, pigs, 
horses and donkeys, joining in, was the greatest 
of the year. Then the leading cow, named Lady, 
or Queenie, or Cleopatra, often carrying the 
milking stool on her head, between her horns, 
led the procession. The girls were all out in 
their best clothes to deck the hats of the daddies 
with wreaths and blossoms, and to say and wave 
good-byes. Pretty nearly every one was dec- 
orated with flowers. 

Then the music and the yodel songs, and the 
blowing of the pine wood horns began. These 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


5 

awoke the echoes of the distant mountains. Then 
the sounds, returning, seemed as sweet as the 
singing by a choir of the heavenly host. No 
Swiss boy or girl, even when grown up, living 
in the cities, or in a foreign land, ever forgot the 
yodel songs, or the hymns his mother used to 
sing. 

The Swiss chateau, home of the Harbys, be- 
fore the year 1710, except the first story, which 
was of stone, was entirely of wood. In winter, 
the fireplace of brick roared with logs of fir, 
birch or oak. The great white porcelain stove, 
eight feet high, banded with shining brass, in 
which peat, or coal, was the fuel, stood at one 
end of the main room. 

To get into the house, the door, in the front 
centre, opened into the basement, but there were 
two stairways on the outside, which took one up 
into the bedrooms. To let the heavy snow slide 
off easily, to the ground, the eaves projected 
from the roof six feet beyond and over the walls. 
Within the projecting front gable, between the 
sloping roof and the second story, there was a 
balcony. 

The whole front of the house was nearly hid- 
den by vines and flowers that invited the bees 
and birds, though there were hives and dove- 
cotes in the yard space, fronting the house. Cut 
into the corner columns, or through the gable 


6 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


boards, was this Scripture sentence: “As for 
me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” 

Not far away was the barn and yard for the 
cows and chickens, ducks and geese. Near by, 
the purling of a running brook, fed from the 
mountain with water, cold, and clear as crystal, 
was like the singing of a sweet song. As neat as 
a new pin was this Spring House. Here upon 
shelves, only a little higher than the stream, and 
on the stone surbase that ran across one side of 
the low room, or floating in the cold water, were 
shallow pans for the milk. In a corner stood the 
big jar, to hold the cream, which was daily 
skimmed from the milk in the pans. The caldron 
and utensils for cheesemaking were kept in an- 
other corner. It was from cheese chiefly that the 
family lived, especially in winter. 

On the walls of the sleeping chambers, par- 
lor, and living room, besides the well-mounted 
antlers of the wild mountain goat, and the 
chamois, there were framed pictures of the great 
men of the Fatherland. Here looked down the 
face of the holy saint Fridolin, or the reformer 
Zwinglius, or the heroes, William Tell and Ar- 
nold von Winkelreid. In some houses, one could 
see a picture of Calvin, or a view of Geneva, or 
the seal of the canton in which they lived. In 
a glass-covered case were dried Alpine flowers, 
rock roses, violets and anemones, with their colors 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


7 


kept wonderfully fresh, even in winter. When 
first plucked, they were put in hot sand — not too 
hot — and covered for a time. 

For breakfast, the Harbys had honey, bread, 
milk and eggs. On the wall, resting on pegs, 
was the father’s gun, for hunting. It was a real 
rifle, and few men in the world, except the Swiss 
and the yagers, or hunters, then knew of this 
wonderful weapon. 

For dinner, they often had chamois or ibex, 
and, occasionally, bear meat, for John Harby 
was a dead shot with the rifle. Beef, with greens, 
was common, though the chief staple of food 
was cheese, or cream cooked in many wonderful 
ways, with cheese-cake, or pie, though butter- 
milk was in daily demand. 

What the young folks liked, best of all, was 
the weekly treat of “schnitzel.” This was made 
of boiled ham, dumplings of wheat flour, dried 
apples and spices, and was served on the table 
With molasses. When nicely cooked, and, as 
mother knew how to make it, nothing tasted bet- 
ter. It was enjoyed until the waist belts of 
youngsters began to tighten. 

Every morning, the doors of the clock, set in 
a box or house on the wall, flew open, and the 
cuckoo chirped its song and then retired inside 
from view. The wooden bird thus gave notice 


8 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

that it was time to get up and make ready for 
school. 

At night, before the children went to sleep, 
Mother, and sometimes Daddy, told them fairy 
or wonder tales, or of the heroes that had made 
Switzerland free, or the Bible stories, till they 
knew these by heart, and, when they grew up, 
told them to their children. 

With the young men of the village, it was not 
always work — in winter with the cows and goats, 
in the dairy at home; or, in summer the driving 
of the flock up to the mountain pastures, with 
the cheesemaking there. Tired of the monotony 
of country life, the sturdy lads welcomed the 
advent of the soldiers, in bright, gay uniforms, 
with a band of music, and the recruiting officer 
at their head. 

With their flags and banners, these strangers 
came from the great world outside, to enlist 
young men for military service, in France or 
Germany, or for the Scotch Brigade in the Neth- 
erlands, or, to serve the King of England, in 
America. All the village folk turned out and 
the mothers and maidens were as eager as the 
fathers, to see how it was done, before their sons, 
brothers and sweethearts marched away. Not 
least among these Swiss, who gained fame, was 
General Henry Bouquet, who, in the British 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


9 

service, and as comrade of Washington, won 
Pittsburg for the King. 

For these were the gala days of monarchs and 
of the soldier of fortune, that is, of the brave 
young man, who left his home and country to 
fight for any one who paid him well. He en- 
listed, more for love of adventure, than for love 
of the ruler whose splendid uniform he wore. 
Yet his loyalty and honor were steadfast. Faith- 
ful and brave, he lived in camps and barracks, 
fought battles, and died in the hospital, or on 
the field. 

When the king’s officer raised his banner aloft, 
in the public square of the Swiss village, the fifer 
and drummer, or trumpeter, sounded the call. 
On one side of the broad table, well furnished, 
and with a foaming pitcher and cups to drink 
the king’s health, sat the notary. Then up came 
the stalwart young fellows, in their working 
clothes, to have their names enrolled, to take the 
oath of allegiance, and to exchange their pitch- 
forks for muskets, bayonets and cartridge boxes. 
Then they took their places with the others, and 
soon wore gay soldier clothes, with shining but- 
tons, and frontlets of brass on their helmets. 

Often it was hard, not only for parents and 
sisters, but for the pet dogs, to leave the dear 
masters. Many were the tears shed, and lively 
the gossip among the women at and around the 


io SWISS FAIRY TALES 

well curb, when the village had again resumed 
its quiet life. 

Greater yet was the glory, when the lad, who 
had left in peasant homespun, returned, in the 
royal uniform, to tell of camps, and battles, and 
sieges; yes, even of palaces and the splendor of 
the great cities, far away. Buttons were a new 
fashion, then, and the Swiss soldier came back 
home, in cocked hat, a coat very much dotted 
with shining brass, and opened to show the vest 
and facings, and with leggings reaching from 
ankle to knee. A high private, in those days, 
looked as gay as a tropical bird, and as hand- 
some as a prince. 

The boys left their hoops, and the girls their 
dolls, to run and welcome the returning hero. 
Old and young listened to his war stories, and 
even the dogs and pigeons seemed to share in the 
joy. The imagination of the youngsters was 
fired, and often maidens followed their lovers to 
distant countries. Who has not read, in the 
pages of Froissart, or Macaulay, of “Appen- 
zell’s stout infantry,” or of the valor and devo- 
tion of the Swiss Guard, in the Tuilleries at 
Paris, who “died to defend their master.” In 
their everlasting honor, one sees at Luzerne, 
sculptured out of the solid rock, the dying lion. 
This splendid work of art symbolizes the loyalty 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


n 


and valor of the seven hundred and eighty-six 
victims, of the French mob, in 1793. 

While the young men had opportunity to see 
the great world, beyond the mountains, most of 
the girls stayed at home in the valleys. Yet all 
the time, they thought of their brothers, lovers 
and kinsmen. They, too, longed to see a real 
prince, and to look on a military pageant, and 
gaze on the splendor of courts and palaces. At 
times, it was hard to restrain the maidens from 
roaming off, down the Rhine, to the rich and 
gay city of Amsterdam, or to the brilliancy of 
Paris. 

It was not alone in Europe that the absentees 
from the Swiss villages started. Already, late 
in the eighteenth century, men of the Grisons 
and Oberland were hearing of the “Pennsyl- 
vanias.” The William Penn country was luring 
the stalwarts away, for reports came across seas, 
as sweet in sound as yodel songs, or as Alpine 
echoes, of fertile soil, which was dirt cheap. The 
kind ruler, of the Forests of Penn, hated war 
and treated even the wild men, or Indians, kind- 
ly. He bought their land and paid them for it, 
even though his King, Charles, called it his own 
— which his friend Roger Williams denied. 

Sometimes a Swiss mother, left a widow, be- 
cause her husband had been killed in some 
prince’s battle, resolved not to let her boy die 


12 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


for a king. So she strapped her baby on her 
back, and skated down the Rhine to Rotterdam, 
and reached America. One of these, well known, 
married again, and in Philadelphia reared a fine 
family of splendid boys and girls. Such a ro- 
mantic incident happened more than once. 

Hardly had the Harbys begun even to talk 
about Penn’s land, when a terrible calamity be- 
fell them, which drove them out of their nest- 
like home, even as the mother-eagle pushes out 
her fledgelings, while the wonderful opportunity 
offered them, in Penn’s Groves, lured them to 
even greater ease and comforts. Across the At- 
lantic, there would be less of toil, than in their 
' mountain home, with its long months of winter 
and its short weeks of summer. 

The story would take too much time to tell, 
if we tried to note every detail. For a week pre- 
vious, the snow had fallen continuously. It 
darkened the air, and covered the earth with 
many feet of solid whiteness. One old man was 
full of forebodings of calamity. On the edge of 
a cliff, far up on the mountain side, mighty 
masses of snow piled up, stood like a lofty tower, 
in terrible menace, likely soon to fall. All were 
hoping for the Fohn, or south wind, to blow and 
“eat up” the snow. 

Unsuspecting a storm, a hunter had, some 
days before, gone among the heights, taking his 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


13 

provisions and blanket, hoping to stalk an ibex, 
or at least a chamois. Caught in the sudden, 
blinding, whirling snow, and unable to find the 
path homeward, he built a rude shelter at the 
edge of the forest. This was opposite an over- 
hanging rock, under this snow tower, which was 
steadily rising in height. Having enough ra- 
tions in his wallet to last him four days, he waited 
till sunshine should come, hoping to see a troop 
of chamois, making their way down over the nar- 
row ledge of rock, in search of moss for food. 
Fortunately for him, but calamitously for the vil- 
lage, his rifle shot brought down a fat buck. 

Yet immediately upon that shock of the air, 
following the gunfire and report, fell tons upon 
tons of snow and ice. The mass, rolling down 
with lightning speed, increased in size at every 
yard. It fell on the village, overwhelming 
houses, barns, stables and gardens. Where yes- 
terday were happy homes were now many human 
victims. Today, the mouldering stones in the 
church yard witness to the awful catastrophe. 
Pathetic is a similar record, made ten years later, 
in another village. “Dear God! What sorrow! 
Eighty-eight in a single tomb.” 

Happily the Harby home, being on the edge 
of the avalanche’s track, though flattened out, 
like a sheet of mussed-up paper, had no human 
dead within its walls; though in the barn every 


i 4 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

living animal was smothered by the weight of 
white. 

Digging out a few necessary things, including 
the trusty rifle, unharmed, they packed them up, 
because they would be very necessary in the new 
home, or because they were linked with affec- 
tionate memories. They were happy in finding 
the stocking full of coin, which had been hidden 
behind a loose stone in the fireplace. Then the 
family made its way to Basle, on the Rhine. 
There they took boat, down the river to Rotter- 
dam; where, with hundreds of other Swiss folks, 
they were sheltered, helped and kindly treated 
by the Dutch ministers and people. 

Getting on board the ship “Arms of Rotter- 
dam,” under the tricolor flag, red, white and blue 
of the Republic, they crossed the Atlantic and in 
Penn’s “Holy Experiment,” where thousands of 
Swiss folk had arrived before them, they reached 
safely the city of Brotherly Love. It was then 
little larger than a village. When the people 
from Wales, England, Holland and Germany 
first came and were building their houses, they 
had lived in caves, on the banks of the Delaware 
river, where now is Front Street; but when 
Harbys arrived there were hundreds of com- 
pleted houses, some in brick, or stone, but mostly 
in wood. Yet even from the beginning, the land 
was properly surveyed, and laid out in squares, 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


15 


and, with four large parks, and planted with 
trees, while some of the streets were paved. In 
truth, for order, and beauty, and liberal ideas, 
this was the queen city of America. 


II 


THE SWISS HOME NEAR VALLEY 
FORGE 

O NLY a few days did the Harbys abide 
on the banks of the Delaware, in the 
little city of Brotherly Love, where 
lived a few hundred people, mostly Friends, in 
drab clothes. Then, from one of William Penn’s 
land agents — the ancestor of American bishops 
— John Harby bought a farm. It lay on a piece 
of high ground, at Barren Hill, which was part 
of a ridge near the Schuylkill river. It was 
named after the bears that were still numerous 
in the forests that then clothed the land. It is 
known as Lafayette Hill and we shall soon see 
why. The neighborhood afforded good hunting, 
for any young man, that had brought his chamois 
rifle with him. One of the active fellows, who 
was reckoned a sure shot, was Harby’s nephew, 
of whom we shall hear later. He shot many deer 
and the family had venison often. Not far away 
was White Marsh. Over in another direction, 
was Fox Chase, where they had hounds and 
hunted foxes. 

*6 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


17 


Only a few miles distant, across the Hidden 
Stream, or Schuylkill, as the Dutch had named 
the river, was the valley forge, where the farmers 
in the region around had their tools made and 
mended. 

Not far away, on the hill, was soon built Saint 
Peter’s Lutheran church. In Switzerland, the 
Harbys had been members of the Reformed 
church, but all the people of the neighborhood 
now worshipped together. 

The Harbys made their house first of logs of 
wood, notched at the corners. Trees were plenti- 
ful, and the forest was near at hand. Many 
things were about them to remind them of their 
old home, though there were no glaciers, or 
avalanches, or high mountains, with snow lying 
on them all the year round, and all was as yet 
rough, in the new country. 

When the barn had been built, the cows, pigs 
and fowls made things look friendly and sociable. 
They had no cuckoo clock any more, but it was 
really homelike to hear the cocks crow at sun- 
rise. This sound was certainly much pleasanter, 
indeed, than to hear the howling of the wolves at 
night. Occasionally, early in the morning, the 
Harbys would see a bear in the barnyard, and 
they had to keep the chickens locked up in the 
chicken house, for foxes were plentiful, and al- 
ways on the watch for a poultry dinner. Wild 


i8 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


turkeys — a new sort of bird for them — and wild 
pigeons were plentiful. Benjamin Franklin, 
who was then a little boy in Boston, the oldest in 
a family of seventeen children, when a grown 
man, wanted to make the wild turkey, which 
gives food to man, the national emblem, instead 
of the eagle, that lives on flesh and kills little 
birds. 

Inside the house, there were wide seats at the 
chimney side, and puss purred in front of the 
great hearth fire. Outside, the dogs kept watch 
and ward, and often had a lively tussle with 
wolves and young bears. 

When spring time came, the girls went blos- 
som hunting. One very common flower, which 
they had known in Switzerland, the Pearly Ever- 
lasting, somehow reminded them of the Edel- 
weiss. Daddy, who loved trees, almost to wor- 
ship, saluted the same species as those which he 
had seen growing in the Old World — fir, birch, 
pine, and oak; but the persimmon tree was new 
to him and he enjoyed the autumn fruit, which 
the frost seemed to ripen; while the sugar maple 
was as good as a fairy tale, for the idea of a 
tree bearing candy was wonderful. In fact, the 
Harbys hailed the trees as friends, true and tried, 
with reverence and awe. 

A generation came and went, and soon there 
was a little God’s acre around the little church 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


19 

on the hill top. The Hess family, from Zurich, 
also had made their home near by, at White- 
marsh, and several couples of the young men and 
maidens of the two households made love and 
married together. 

The fathers and mothers, who had known the 
old home land beyond the sea, talked often of 
chamois and ibex, and edelweiss and the rock 
roses, and the meadow flowers, and the cows and 
the yodel music. When they spoke of the 
“Alps,” they meant the summer pastures high 
up, and not mountains. At times, especially in 
J une, they felt homesick for the yodel songs and 
the Alpine horn echoes. They spoke often of 
the curious things at Neuchatel, and Berne, and 
Zurich, and the Lake of the Four Cantons. They 
sang the hymns of Heimath, or Home, and of 
the Fatherland, and of the Heavenly Land, and 
recounted the exploits of the Swiss heroes. The 
children were taught not to be afraid of the dark, 
and all knew by heart many hymns, especially 
that beginning, “Alone, yet not alone with God 
am I.” 

On the other hand, the new generation told of 
other game, deer, bear, wolf, wild turkey and 
pigeons, and of new fruits like the persimmon. 
Their model, in civil life, was the good governor, 
William Penn, and their hero in valor and rescue 
of captives was Colonel Bouquet, the Swiss sol- 


20 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


dier in the service of their sovereign, Queen 
Anne. They loved her, also, because she loved 
the yodel music. Later came the kings named 
George. The flag over them was the Union 
Jack, which they saw float on the staff, when 
they went to Philadelphia often, and, occasion- 
ally, to Lancaster. 

Yet all this time, one great desire and romantic 
longing of the maidens was unfulfilled. The 
yearning of the girls, as they became sweet- 
hearts, wives, and mothers, was handed down, as 
if it were a family heirloom, to see a real prince 
or a nobleman, or a man with a title. They hoped 
that some officer, in resplendent uniform, such 
as they had seen in their home village, would 
come into their neighborhood, for they were tired 
of Quaker drab. Even though their grand- 
parents were democratic by their Swiss inheri- 
tance, and almost by instinct, and though reared 
in the oldest of republics, and accustomed to town 
meetings, the little maids, Sarah and Hannah, 
longed to see a real pageant, a prince; or at 
least a marquis, and something of the pomp of 
courts or even of armies. They heard that the 
Prince of Wales, who became King George II, 
had indeed visited New York, and skated on the 
ice of the Collect Pond; but he had come and 
gone, as a private person, and it was not likely 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


21 


that either he, again, or even King George III 
would ever visit the colonies. 

Before the two little girls could know what it 
all meant, the Harbys heard, in their home at 
Barren Hill, of the Continental Congress, held 
in Carpenters’ Hall, in Philadelphia. In this 
gathering Canada was represented. Then, it was 
hoped that there would be fourteen stripes in the 
flag, which the Philadelphia City Troop of cav- 
alry were making. But when their flag was un- 
furled and the handsome horsemen escorted Col- 
onel George Washington, of Virginia, to Cam- 
bridge, many felt very sorry, that there were 
only thirteen, instead of the longed-for fourteen 
stripes, and hoped, even yet, that Canada would 
join. 

War broke out. From the new State House, 
in Philadelphia, then one of the most wonderful 
buildings in any of the colonies, floated the flag 
of thirteen stripes, red and white, and inde- 
pendence was proclaimed. 

Then, after two years, this same flag had as 
many stars in its blue field. Yet the armies of 
the Congress met with many disasters, and, one 
day the little girls out in the garden heard the 
boom of the cannon at Brandywine. It was not 
very long afterward, that the Continentals 
marched past the house, to make camp and winter 
quarters at Valley Forge. 


22 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


Among the young men riding on horses, as 
Washington’s body guard of young troopers, 
who were mostly Pennsylvania Swiss, or Ger- 
mans, was John Harby’s nephew, Gustave. At 
the camp, besides being an orderly at head- 
quarters, it was his special duty to raise, at sun- 
rise, and lower, at sunset, the thirteen-striped 
flag, which now bore no longer the British Union 
Jack, but a blue field, in which, in a circle of 
glory, were thirteen stars; and he and his com- 
rades rejoiced that the colonies had been made 
independent, and each stripe and star stood for 
a state, and all in a union. It was his people 
that, first of all, spoke of Washington as the 
“Father of his country”; or, as the minister said, 
“Pater Patriae.” 

The winter of 1777-78 had nearly passed and 
many a skirmish, between the British foraging 
parties, of Hessians and red coats, and the 
American Colonel Sheldon’s dragoons, had taken 
place. One fine morning, in the spring, while 
Gustave was taking breakfast, with his little 
cousins at the Harbys, all were startled by the 
firing of guns at Valley Forge. Evidently the 
Continentals were busy burning powder, but 
why? 

“A battle?” asked the mother as she glanced 
at her husband. 

At the first roll of the echoes, the young 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


^3 


trooper, Gustave, put on his bearskin cap, seized 
his carbine, and rushed out to hear. Putting his 
ear to the ground, he made up his mind that the 
reports were too regular for war. Then, enter- 
ing the house, he declared it must be a salvo — a 
feu de jeu — or joy volley. 

“For what, I wonder,” asked Mrs. Harby. 

“I know,” said Daddy. “We have been wait- 
ing for news of the alliance with France. Now, 
our Continentals and the sparkling Bourbon- 
nieres will march together. Whole companies, 
among these, are our Swiss boys. Then he 
hummed, joyfully, the old German tune of 
Yankee Doodle. Perhaps now, a French fleet 
would come up the Delaware, blockade Philadel- 
phia, and capture Howe’s army, as Burgoyne 
had been captured. At the table, they kept on 
talking a long time. 

Only a few days later, a line of wagons, driven 
up from a southern port, brought in supplies 
from France. Five of the wagons contained 
saddles, bridles, stirrups and a full equipment, 
made in France, for the whole regiment of Col- 
onel Sheldon’s cavalry, which had been at first 
raised in Connecticut. This was Lafayette’s own 
gift, and had been paid from out of his own 
purse. The Continental Congress had given him 
a commission in the American army, with the 
rank of Major-General. 


24 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


“Why, that sounds like a prince,” murmured 
little Sarah to herself. 

A few days later, and another surprise broke 
the monotony of life at Barren Hill. Washing- 
ton wished to know what the British in Phila- 
delphia were going to do. Would they attack 
him? Or, considering his military position too 
strong to risk assault, would they retire to New 
York? Would Washington capture, or be cap- 
tured? 

So May 18, 1778, the commander-in-chief, 
who trusted the young French nobleman, as fully 
as he would trust his oldest general, placed 
twenty-two hundred of his best soldiers and five 
cannon under his charge. He was to reconnoitre, 
as the French say. So Lafayette led his force 
out, and took up to a strong position on Barren 
Hill. 

This movement was quickly known in Phila- 
delphia, and at once three columns of British and 
Hessians marched to entrap and capture Lafay- 
ette and the Continentals. 

All this is national history. Yet it was like a 
fairy tale to the little Harby maids, Sarah and 
Hannah, to see the Continental soldiers, now so 
proud of their drilling, during the long winter, 
by Baron Steuben. Father Hess, the night be- 
fore, had sent to the nobleman from over the 
great sea, an invitation to breakfast. You may 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


25 

be sure that Mrs. Harby got out her best gold- 
rimmed China cups and saucers, and her cara- 
way-seed cakes, her Zurich cookies, and her best 
“Dutch cake,” and silver teapot, to set before the 
real, live Marquis. When she told her two small 
daughters that she would let them wait on the 
young nobleman, they clapped their hands for 
joy. At last, they were to see, not, indeed, a 
prince, but a nobleman who had been at Court, 
talked with the mighty monarch, and who had a 
bride and a chateau in France. 

The little girls, as they brought Lafayette his 
food, noticed his deep red hair, his fine forehead, 
his pleasing mouth and firm chin, but, most of 
all, his clear hazel eyes. More than once, he 
smiled his thanks, and this was what they, long 
afterward, told most about. In fact, the great 
man’s features seemed to bespeak strength, more 
than beauty; but this was what all the Harbys 
liked. 

Did the British capture Lafayette? Did he 
show fear, when Gustave Hess, the scout, rode 
up and told of three columns of red coats march- 
ing by diff erent roads ? Two were on one side of 
the Schuylkill river, and one on the other. Sure- 
ly, with their five thousand men, they would, as 
they fully expected, trap the Marquis; and, they 
might even bag his whole force. A ship was 
actually waiting in the Delaware river to take 


26 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


the young Frenchman a captive to London. In- 
deed, Lord Howe had invited some handsome 
Tory ladies to dinner, expecting the outwit 
Washington and to have the young Frenchman 
to sit as guest and captive. 

But the young general spoiled this game. 
Mounting his horse, he ordered out, what mili- 
tary men call “false heads of columns.” This 
made the British, who knew not what might be 
behind these front files, halt, until reinforced. 
Then they deployed, and, bringing up their can- 
non, sent a round shot that smashed the axle tree 
of one of Lafayette’s field pieces. 

Must, then, the young Frenchman abandon his 
gun, and face Washington, with one of his can- 
non lost by capture? Not he! Turning the 
heads of their horses, the artillery men of the 
Continentals drove into the Harby farm yard, 
drew out a wagon, lashed the dismounted cannon 
to the hind axle, hitched on the team, and, whip- 
ping up the steeds, the whole battery dashed 
toward Matson’s ford, and reached safely the 
camp at Valley Forge. Seven gallant Ameri- 
can lads, in the rear guard of the young Con- 
tinentals, died in the fight to save the guns for 
their country. 

But the rest of that breakfast, and all there 
was in the spring house, pantry, kitchen and 
even in the ovens, was eaten by the hot and hun- 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


27 


gry, and mad, and disappointed Hessians. The 
two little girls lived to tell what they had seen, 
and another little sister, born before the war was 
over, stood with them on Chestnut street in 
1824, to see the Marquis de Lafayette again. 
He was riding in the parade and amid the gen- 
eral joy, when the City Troop, with their old 
thirteen-striped flag, of 1775, escorted the aged 
friend of America. And the same cannon that 
was saved at Barren Hill thundered welcome 
from its iron throat. 


Ill 


THE WONDERFUL ALPINE HORN 

W HEN the little boys and girls, who 
read these Swiss fairy tales, grow up 
to be big and travel in Switzerland, 
they will enjoy the Alpine horn. 

Nearly every shepherd lad in the mountains 
knows how to blow it. It is made of wood, and 
is about half as long as an ordinary broom. Its 
butt, or heavy end, rests on the ground. When 
a man blows a long blast, the sound, at first, when 
one is too near, does not seem to be very pleas- 
ing; for distance lends enchantment to the sound. 
But wait a moment, and listen! Far off across 
the valley, the strains are caught up, and sent 
back from the tops of the high mountains. Then 
it sounds as if a great choir of angels had come 
down from Heaven to sing glory to God, and to 
bring greetings to all good souls. Nowhere in 
all the world is there such sweet music made by 
echoes. 

Sometimes there is a double set of echoes, like 
one rainbow inside of another. Then, it makes 
one think of a choir of little angels, that sing a 
28 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


29 

second time, after the first heavenly chorus has 
ceased. 

How the Swiss people first received the Alpine 
horn, as a gift from the fairies, is told in the story 
of a faithful shepherd’s boy, named Perrod. He 
had to work hard all day, in tending the cows 
that grazed on the high mountain pastures, which 
the natives call the Alps. But when foreign peo- 
ple speak of “the Alps,” they mean the ranges 
of mountains themselves. 

In winter, these level stretches of ground are 
covered with snow and ice, but by the month of 
June, it is warm enough for the grass and flowers 
to grow. Then the cowboys and cheese makers 
go up with their cattle. At night, Perrod, hav- 
ing milked the cows, skimmed the cream off the 
milk, hung the great caldron over the fire, and 
made the cheese. 

By this time, that is, well into the late hours, 
Perrod was almost tired to death. After call- 
ing “good -night” to Luquette, his sweetheart, 
who lived across the valley, and hearing her 
greeting in answer, he climbed up the ladder, into 
the loft, and lay down on his bed. This was only 
a pile of straw, but he was asleep almost the 
very moment he touched it, for he was a healthy 
lad and the mountain air was better than medi- 
cine. It was especially good for sound sleep, and 
he knew he must get up early, at sunrise, to lead 


30 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


the cows and goats out to pasture. Then the all- 
day concert, of tinkling bells, began. 

But this night, instead of slumber, without 
once waking until day dawn, Perrod had closed 
his eyes, for only about three hours, when he 
heard a crackling sound, which waked him up. 
He thought, at first, the wind was blowing hard 
enough to rip off some of the bark strips from 
the roof of the chalet, and was tumbling down 
some of the heavy stones laid on to keep them in 
place. But when he saw the reflection, on the 
walls and ceiling, of a bright fire, he crawled 
quietly out of bed. Then he peeped down and 
through the cracks in the board floor, to see what 
was going on. 

Three men were around the fire. One, the 
biggest fellow of the three, was hanging up the 
caldron on the hooks. The second piled on more 
wood, while the others warmed their hands in the 
bright blaze. 

The three men were all different in appear- 
ance, the one from the other, and a queer looking 
lot they were. The tremendously tall man 
seemed to be a giant, in weight and size. His 
sleeves were rolled up, showing that his arms 
were sunburnt, until they were very dark. When 
he lifted up the caldron, to hang it up, or take it 
down, his muscles stood out like whipcords. 

But the man sitting on a milking stool, at the 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


3i 


right hand side of the fireplace, was entirely 
different, being smaller, and with a white skin 
and golden hair. He had a long horn, which 
rested on the floor beside him. 

The man on the left-hand side of the fire- 
place, appeared to be a woodman, or hunter. At 
least, he seemed to be used to the forest. 
Though it was pitch dark night, he knew where 
the wood lay, piled up under the eaves of the 
chalet; for, when the fire burned low, he went 
out doors and returned with an arm load of fag- 
gots. Then he piled up the wood, and the fire 
blazed, and crackled, and roared, until the boy 
in the loft thought the hut would be burned up, 
too. Yet, though he trembled at the strange 
sight, he was brave. He resolved not to be 
quiet, if the big men tried to steal his cheese, 
which was to be food for the family during the 
winter. 

Just as he was wondering, whether his sis- 
ters and old daddy would have enough to eat, 
during the long cold winter of eight months, 
that was soon coming, when snow and ice cov- 
ered the fields, he saw a curious thing happen. 
Sweet music began, such as had never met his 
ears before, since he was in his cradle and his 
mother sang to him. 

It was the man with the golden hair, who 
seemed to be the real gentleman of the party. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


32 

He it was, who made the music. He first handed 
something to the giant, who dropped it into the 
caldron. Then, with his horn, he disappeared 
through the door. When outside, he lifted the 
instrument to his lips and blew a blast. 

Perrod was so interested in watching the 
giant, that he paid little attention to the man out- 
side, or to the sound he had made, for he saw 
the hunter take a bottle out of his pocket, and 
hand it over to the biggest fellow, who stood 
at the caldron over the fire. This one poured 
the liquid, which seemed to be blood red, into the 
big iron pot. Then, with a ladle, as big as a 
shovel, and long as a gun, he stirred vigorously. 
Then, three beakers, or cups were set upon the 
table. 

By this time, the golden haired man outside 
had finished his blast of music, which seemed to 
float across the valleys down into the defiles, over 
the pastures, and through the wood. It grew 
sweeter and sweeter, as it swelled on the gentle 
night breeze, until all the mountains seemed to 
have awakened, turned into living angels and 
lifted up their voices. The sweet strain ended 
with a prolonged sad note, as if melancholy had 
fallen on the musicians, and then it ceased. 

A strange thing happened. All the cows and 
goats woke up from their sleep, and one, from all 
directions, could hear the tinkling of their neck 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


33 


bells, all over the pastures, far and near. The 
poor creatures thought it was time to get up and 
be milked, but they were puzzled to find it was 
yet dark. In fact, they were all, still, quite 
sleepy and very slow to move. 

Something even far more wonderful happened 
next. Perrod, after first hearing the horn blow, 
thought the music had ceased: when, suddenly, 
it all seemed to come back in vastly greater vol- 
ume. The sounds were multiplied, as if a thou- 
sand echoes had blended into one and all heaven 
had joined in the melody. Perrod was en- 
tranced. He even closed his eyes lest he might, 
by looking down at the strange men, lose some 
of what seemed to him a choir of angels singing. 

When the last strain had ceased, Perrod 
opened his eyes. The golden haired musician 
had re-entered the chalet, and resumed his seat, 
sitting down again on the milkstool, at the right 
of the fire; while the hunter rearranged three 
glass goblets, on the rough wooden table, from 
which Perrod ate his meals. 

All three of the strangers then solemnly 
watched the caldron, as the liquid boiled, just 
as the cream does, when cheese is to be made; 
the big man stirring up with his huge ladle. At 
a particular moment, the giant lifted the caldron 
and emptied out the contents into the three glass 
vessels. To the amazement of Perrod, there 


34 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

issued, from the same vessel, three very different 
colors. 

In the first glass, filled to the brim, the 
draught was as red as blood, and it foamed at 
the top. The drops, flying out on the board, left 
crimson stains. 

Giving a tap on the caldron, with the big 
ladle, the tall man let flow, into the second glass, 
what seemed to be the same liquid ; but this time, 
it was as green as grass, but hissing hot, and 
bubbling. 

Another loud ladle tap on the caldron, and out 
flowed a stream as cold as snow water, and as 
white as the edelweiss flower. The liquid rested 
in the goblet as quiet as milk, but seemed to be 
frosty on the top. 

Now the giant-like fellow, shaking his huge 
ladle in his right hand, and putting his left at 
the side of his mouth, shouted with a voice of 
thunder : 

“Come down, you boy, and make your choice 
of one of these three. Each has a glorious gift 
to him who drinks. Come quick, for it will soon 
be daylight.” 

Perrod knew he was discovered, but he was a 
brave boy. If his legs trembled, his heart was 
big. Moreover, the golden haired man gave him 
a nod, and winked his eye, to encourage the lad. 

So Perrod at once climbed down and stood 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


35 

before the table, on which were the three chalices. 

“Drink, young friend,” said the giant, “from 
any one of these, but know that, in the red liquid, 
is a gift to the Swiss men. Drain this cup, and 
then you will have strength, like me.” At that, 
he bent his arm to show his mighty muscles. 
“You will be able to conquer the strongest man, 
or fiercest beast. Besides, I shall give you a hun- 
dred fat cows, each of which will yield much 
milk, rich in butter. Drain this cup, and, ac- 
cording to my promise, you will see the kine to- 
morrow. 

Then the hunter spoke: “Better drink from 
my goblet. After this green draught, you will 
have all the gold you want, and heaps of coins; 
and then you can marry, and still easily support 
your old father and mother.” So saying, he 
tossed handfuls of gold pieces on the floor, pil- 
ing them up, until they reached the lad's knees. 
Perrod opened his eyes wide in astonishment, 
for here was not a promise in words, but the 
actual thing, that he could see for himself. 

He was just about to stretch both his hands 
and drink the green liquid, when the golden 
haired man, speaking gently to Perrod, said: 

“I cannot promise you either cows or coins, 
but if you drink the liquid in the white goblet, 
you will be able to use this horn, make music 
in the mountains and call your cows, as I have 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


36 

done. Thus your flocks and herds also will share 
with you my gift.” 

Not a minute did Perrod wait to decide. “I 
care more for music, than for money, or 
strength,” he said, and, lifting the glass, he put 
it to his lips and drained the cup dry. 

“What was it, and how did it taste?” do you 
ask? It was what the cows gave him every day 
— pure fresh milk, but cold as glacier water. 

“Good,” cried the man with the golden hair. 
Any other choice would have meant death. 
Here is the horn. Blow it tomorrow, and see 
what will happen.” 

As if lifted up on wings, to his straw bed, but 
holding on to his horn, Perrod heard the door 
shut and bang, as the three men went out, two 
of them scowling. Then the fire cooled to ashes. 
He fell asleep and dreamed of the time when, 
in the church, he should lead his bride to the 
altar, his lovely sweetheart, Luquette, to be mar- 
ried, and the two should have a chateau and 
home of their own. 

Awakening at the first moment, when the rosy 
light of the rising sun made the face of the moun- 
tains blush, even while the valleys below were 
still in darkness, and long before his sisters, in 
the village, far away, had awakened, he rushed 
out to the edge of the pasture. Then, he drew 
in a man’s breath, filled his lungs, and, putting 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


37 

his lips to the mouthpiece of the horn, blew a 
long blast. He listened eagerly, for the far off 
echoes. A pleasant double surprise awaited him. 

All over the pastures, in the chalets of the high 
plateau, and along the mountain slopes, even 
down to the valleys, there was heard, at once, the 
tinkling of goat bells, cow bells, and the sound 
even of what hung in the metal collars of donkeys 
and horses, until the chorus of bell music was 
wonderful. 

“Very fine, but is that all?” thought Perrod. 

But another surprise! From across the great 
ravine, or chasm, out rushed his beloved 
Luquette. Hastily throwing a wrap around her 
shoulders, she stood in bare feet, threw a kiss to 
Perrod, and shouted to him her joy. 

Now came the crowning wonder. From the 
high peaks, miles distant, and now rosy red in 
the dayspring, came back the music, in multi- 
plied echoes, as if all the snow ranges of the 
Alps were singing. Pure, sweet, prolonged, the 
boy thought of what he had heard read in the 
church, that, at creation “the morning stars sang 
together.” So it seemed now to him. 

Through many centuries, and to this day, to 
call the cows together, to make the goats look 
up, and turn homeward, to seek shelter of the 
night, for men’s evening prayer and chant of 
thanks-giving, for the signals of defence 


38 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

against enemies, for beginning the festal dance, 
or, to sound the wedding joy, the Alpine horn 
is the delight of the Swiss. It is like the carillons 
of the Belgic folk, the chimes of Normandy, the 
tower music of Holland, or the bagpipes of the 
Highlander. In a foreign land, in dreams, in 
its memories it tells of “home, sweet home.” 


IV 


THE WHIMSICAL AVALANCHE 

I T may happen, in Switzerland, that mighty 
masses of snow and ice, sometimes as big 
as the capitol at Washington, and as high 
as Bunker Hill monument, will roll down the 
mountain sides without giving any notice. 
These crush whole forests, bury villages, tear 
rocks to pieces, knock off bits of the mountain 
sides and kill thousands of people, cows, goats 
and horses. 

Though large enough to engulf an army, or a 
battleship, they are very small, when first born, 
up in the very high Alps. 

Starting as a snow ball, they grow large, very 
quickly, every moment, and finally become im- 
mense. Then, they roll along over many miles, 
carrying destruction in their path, until they 
tumble over precipices, or reach low land that is 
level. That is the reason why they are so named, 
for avalanche means “to the valley.” 

There are many causes of an avalanche and a 
little thing may start one of these terrors. The 
irregular melting, by the morning sun, of ice, 
39 


40 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


in light or shade, the fall of an icicle, the tum- 
bling of a stone, or a sliver of rock, or even the 
firing of a gun, which shakes the overhanging, or 
piled up snow, will begin one of these revolving 
globes. 

Now in old times, all Swiss folk used to think 
that an avalanche was alive, and was having a 
jolly time, enjoying itself, when sliding and roll- 
ing, leaping and dashing down the mountain 
slopes, in its mad race, from the sky to the plain. 
This was its way of enjoying itself, with a short 
life and a merry one. It grew faster than any- 
thing else known. For, while a glacier might 
take a thousand years to develop, from snow- 
flakes into miles of solid ice, like a frozen river, 
it required only a few minutes for an avalanche 
to spring from babyhood into full size, with a 
power exceeding that of a thousand giants. 

Being, at its birth, only an inch or two in diam- 
eter, this infant son of the King of the Frost 
Giants, the avalanche soon became the child, 
which, as it grew up, so terribly fast, took after 
its daddy. It liked to flatten out trees, and 
houses, and smash things. It generally so fright- 
ened men, dogs, cats and the big animals, that 
dared to come near the everlasting heights of ice 
and snow, where the Frost Giants lived, that, in 
old times, no one in winter went up to the high 
peaks. 































































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SWISS FAIRY TALES 


4i 


As a rule, nobody knows, either in summer or 
winter, just when the avalanches will fall, or 
whether they will be made of light, powdery, dry 
snow, or of snow that is heavy, wet, and like 
what the boys call “soakers.” Yet there are 
some old men in Switzerland, who can foretell 
avalanches, as our wise men try to do with the 
weather. 

Once upon a time, the Frost Giant’s baby, of 
which we are going to tell, was born, and great 
things were expected of it, even when it was only 
as big as a snowflake. But, when it grew up, 
to be a real avalanche, it behaved very diff erently 
from all the others. It disappointed its daddy 
and its uncles awfully. The Frost Giants like 
to make all the mischief they can, while this one 
wanted to help men, instead of hurting them, 
and made a new record in the history of colossal 
snowballs. 

It was on a summer’s day, when the Frost 
Giants all gathered together on a big mountain 
top, to celebrate the birthday of their king. On 
his part, he was to treat them to a sight of an 
unusually wonderful baby. It was to be in the 
form of a ball of snow, that, when it become a 
mighty mass, would wipe out one great forest, 
two big villages, with all the people and cattle 
in it, and then roll into the valley. There it 
would destroy hundreds of acres of farms and 


42 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


vineyards, block up the roads, multiply funer- 
als, and waste so many millions of men’s dol- 
lars, that years would pass away before pros- 
perity and good times would come again. The 
Frost King had a map of the route, which the 
young avalanche was to travel, and he showed 
it around freely. This was what the Frost 
Giants loved to do, for they hated flowers and 
butterflies, and cows and men. 

When the white Frost Giants had come to- 
gether, and all had arrived, in their coats of hard 
snow and with long beards of icicles, the Frost 
King invited them to gather at the edge of a 
precipice, under a jagged peak, that had many 
times been riven and splintered by lightning. 
Then he bade them look down over the land- 
scape, while he pointed out the track which he 
expected his hopeful offspring, the newborn 
avalanche, was to take, from the time it started, 
until it had done its work in levelling forests, 
villages and vineyards. Then, using the big 
palm of his hand as a diagram, and his five fin- 
gers as pointers — just as a fortune teller finds 
out and assures a girl what kind of a husband she 
will have — he told them just what he was sure 
would happen. On reaching the valley, the big 
ball would spread itself over a square mile or 
two, while covering up and ruining the grain 
fields. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES * 


43 


After that, it would take the sunshine and 
warm south wind at least two or three years to 
melt the mass, while thousands of people would 
be in mourning for their dead children and kins- 
folk. Or, reduced to beggary, they would be- 
wail the loss of all they had in this world. To 
hear the old Frost King, as his tongue wagged, 
and the icicles of his beard flopped up and down, 
as the chief chin-chopper of the party, you would 
have thought that this baby avalanche, that was 
to start today was the greatest and most famous 
ever known. 

“Now watch,” said the Frost King. 

It was midday in midsummer, and the heat 
was great, as he took up a mass of wet snow, 
hardly more than a dipper full, but already made 
soft by the sun’s rays. He squeezed the mass 
hard, between the palms of his hands. To the 
Frost Giants, it seemed scarcely bigger than a 
pill. 

Then, striking an attitude, like a baseball 
pitcher, or a man playing tenpins, and about to 
roll the ball along down the alley, the Frost King 
held up before them the dark gray, sticky ball. 
As he fondled and patted it, as his own child, the 
Frost King called out, “I name thee, my son, 
‘Soaker Smash-All,’ and I expect thee to break 
all records. Make the widest swathe of ruin, 
my son, ever known among men. The sun is 


44 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


mine enemy, and, through thee, I shall spoil his 
work and give him plenty of labor to restore it. 
Go!” 

Saying this, the toss was made and the ball set 
rolling. 

At first, for several seconds, with Soaker 
Smash-All, it was more like ploughing, than roll- 
ing its way through the drifts, for the slope was 
slight. Then, as the incline grew more steep, 
the tumbling became more rapid, until about a 
half mile from the starting point, the baby ava- 
lanche had, by its leaps and bounds grown so fast, 
as to be already as big as a barn. It was bounc- 
ing swiftly along, when, instead of going 
straight ahead, as its daddy, the Frost King, had 
planned and expected, it rolled against a rounded 
rock, that curved up and backwards, like the 
dashboard of a sleigh, or the roof of a pagoda. 

At once, it swerved to the right and bounded 
high up in the air, as though some Frost Giant 
was playing foot ball, and was trying to hit the 
goal. 

Then all sorts of funny things began to 
happen. 

The Frost Giants were terribly disappointed 
at seeing their pet mount up in the air like a pig- 
skin ball from the foot of a first class kicker, 
even before it was half grown. To behave so 
differently, from what its daddy had felt sure of, 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


45 

and told the Frost Giants it would do, seemed 
like disobedience. For, was not this avalanche 
the Frost King’s son? Instead of rolling 
straight down the valley, gathering force for its 
final plunge, at every yard, it was apparently 
trying to climb up to the moon. 

“That youngster is altogether too smart,” 
whispered one old giant to another. 

Just a second or two, before this baby ava- 
lanche seemed to have lost both its head and its 
path, to go aside and play in the deep valley 
below, there was a hunter, on one side of the 
ravine, who had climbed up the high rocks, to 
get a shot at a herd of chamois that were feeding 
quietly on the other side. 

Besides the buck or daddy chamois there were 
four mothers, each with a pretty little kid, hardly 
two months’ old, beside her. Now it was not the 
season for hunting, and it was against the law, 
which allowed the mother chamois a quiet inter- 
val, and the kids, time to grow up ; for a chamois 
kid needs to be educated just as a child does. 

But this fellow, named Erni, was both cruel 
and lawless. He had brought his spy glass with 
him and, pulling it out, swept the distant faces of 
the great cliffs to find his game. Just as this 
promising family — a buck, with a harem of four 
does, and as many kids — hove in sight, his fancy 
was tickled. Law or no law, he would shoot. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


46 

He laid down his glass, pointed the rifle and took 
cool aim, hoping to bring down two of the 
chamois at a shot. Then he pulled the trigger. 
With that gun, it was a case of “a fire at one 
end and a fool at the other.” 

Alas, for human hopes ! There is many a slip 
between muzzle and game. In his case a miss 
was as good as a mile, or even a league. In the 
cruel hunter’s brain there had been already a 
flitting vision of venison pot-pie and chamois 
steak. He even saw, in his day dream, two fine 
pairs of mounted horns adorning his parlor walls. 

But the daddy of the chamois family had, a 
second before, thrown up his nose and caught a 
whiff of some human being near. Looking up in 
alarm, he saw the huge snow ball in the air above 
him. Giving the usual sort of whistle, as chamois 
sentinels do, the whole family started to run, as 
if racing with the wind, to get under the shelter 
of an overhanging rock. 

Already the bullet had sped, and, despite their 
speed, one or two chamois might have fallen, but 
the movement of an avalanche had so thickened 
and condensed the air, that it was like firing a 
pellet of lead into molasses, making the hall go 
slowly. This was what is called “the wind of the 
avalanche,” which sometimes kills men and 
beasts. 

Instead of the heart of a chamois, the rifle 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


47 


bullet struck the monster snowball in the cen- 
tre, but it hurt the avalanche no more than a flea 
bite on the end of an elephant’s tail. 

We cannot here tell what Erni, the enraged 
hunter, said. 

Having lost the whole day in climbing and 
now, tired, hungry and vexed with disappoint- 
ment, he trudged back. When he reached home, 
his wife kept quiet, his children had to keep 
away from him, and he did not say his prayers 
that night. 

On the contrary, in the forest home of the 
chamois, there was much rejoicing, for they had 
heard the ring of the rifle and seen its flash. In 
fact, avalanches were very popular in chamois 
society, for even when one was seen coming, soon 
enough, the bucks and does could easily dodge 
them. 


V 


THE MOUNTAIN GIANTS 
ON G ages ago, when the round earth was 



being shaped, and the ice was melting, 


to give way to the green fields and flow- 
ers, huge monsters, bears, wolves and other wild 
animals were the only living creatures in Switzer- 
land. Then the giants arrived on the world. 

When, by and bye, human beings came into 
the land, they told their children that the 
mountains were what were left of the earth’s 
crust, after it had shrunk into peaks and ridges, 
humps and hollows, like an apple, when baked 
in the oven, making crusts, points and wrinkles. 
The valleys had been sunk, by the giants walk- 
ing about on the earth, while it was yet soft. 
The rivers were formed by the weeping of the 
giants’ wives and daughters, when they were 
badly treated; for these rough fellows, husbands 
and brothers, did not know how to be kind to 
their female kin. The only way the giants were 
able to make their women obey them, when they 
were bad tempered, or naughty, or scolded too 
much, was to use shovels, pokers, clubs, and 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


49 


straps on them. This clumsy and cruel way, of 
keeping the family in order, was because the 
giants had not yet learned to love, but were like 
brutes and knew only about force. 

These giants, though so big, were very stupid, 
as compared with men. Their brains were more 
like those of babies, and they were not half as 
Smart as boys and girls are to-day. They did 
not know enough even to plough the ground, 
and raise wheat, and rye, and oats, and to make 
porridge, to say nothing of bread and cakes, 
and pies and doughnuts. They could not melt 
lead, or work iron, or make tools, but depended 
on their muscles, because these were huge and 
tough, so that they bulged out ; for the giants had 
terrific strength, like bulls and elephants. 
Though their brains were so small, their limbs 
were like pillars, much thicker than piano legs, 
and their arms were like iron. They could only 
make hammers, or chisels, knives and scrapers 
of stone, and clubs of wood, for they knew no 
better, and never went to school or college. 

When men finally arrived on the earth, and 
began to plough the ground, and to raise wheat 
for bread, and brought cows for milk, the giants, 
and especially the giantesses, were mightily in- 
terested. Their curiosity was great, to see how 
the things were done and how houses were built, 
and cradles were made for babies to sleep in. 


5o 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


The giants told their sons and daughters not 
to meddle with the human folks, but rather to 
help them; for the giants, dull as their wits 
were, were afraid of any creature, that, though 
smaller than they were, had more brains. They 
wondered how human beings got such big heads, 
and they often pounded on each other’s skulls, 
to see if they were hollow inside, like a cocoanut. 

Now the biggest, of all these big fellows, was 
their king, named Gargantua, but men learned 
to call him “Old Gargy.” He had only one 
daughter, Bertha, who was his pet. She was a 
pretty good giantess, but she always wanted to 
have her own way, and this often made trouble 
in the family. Daddy and mamma could not al- 
ways agree about her. Bertha knew how to get 
on Old Gargy’s soft side, and sweeten his temper. 

Too often, her indulgent father either let her 
have her own way, or gave what she begged of 
him, or else he winked at, and overlooked, some 
of her foolish pranks. 

One day, when her daddy and mamma were 
asleep, she sneaked out from the cave, on her 
tiptoes, and slipped down a glacier. When on 
solid ground, she ran, like a deer, up into the 
valley, where she saw a farmer with two horses 
making furrows in the field. 

Amused at this, she stood and watched, while 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


5i 

perched on a boulder, looking on with wonder. 
Then the young giantess burst out laughing. 

“How funny, to make stripes, and little gut- 
ters, all along the ground,” she said to herself. 
Then, she walked up to where the man was and 
lifting him, his plough, and both his horses, in 
one of her big hands, she held out her apron, 
open wide, and dropped the whole lot, man, team, 
and tools into it. These she took home to play 
with, on the cave floor. Her mother looked on 
and enjoyed the fun, as her daughter pulled 
the horses’ tails, and made them kick. She 
forced the man to dance on her thumb nail, and 
used the iron end of the plough to clean her fin- 
ger nails. The man talked and whined and 
wanted to go home to his wife and babies, but 
the giantess, Bertha, could not understand, a 
word he said. So she spoke to her mother thus: 

“This must be his way of frowning, like a wolf 
cub. Or, maybe he is chattering, like a monkey. 
Or is he crying? Do you suppose?” 

At this, the shadow of Old Gargy darkened 
the cave door. He saw what was being done, 
and instantly ordered the release of the man and 
his horses. Then he lifted his club, as a sign of 
securing obedience. 

The jolly giantess, Bertha, having had her 
fun, took back the man and his team into the 
valley. The farmer’s wife was so grateful, that 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


52 

she wanted to make her visitor a nice present. 
So she took from the corner of the room some- 
thing brown. It was four-foot long and stood 
there, on the end, with others like it. They looked 
like clubs, but seemed very light. These were 
loaves of Swiss rye bread, that were kept stand- 
ing on their ends, in the spring house, and were 
called the staff of life. A thick round cheese, a 
pot of honey and a full pail of milk were also 
given Bertha for a present. The giantess ate 
heartily. She drank a bucket full of the milk, 
chewed up a cheese, and a yard of bread, and then 
asked for more to take home ; which was willingly 
given. 

When back in the cave, the giant family had 
a jolly feast; at least, each one had a mouth full. 
They all smacked their lips, and murmured “Um, 
um, um,” in their delight. 

Down in the Valley, the farmer’s wife, al- 
though the sky was blue, and the sun shining, 
thought it was thundering, or that an avalanche 
had fallen down the mountain; but it was only 
the giant family showing how happy they were, 
at eating the food of human beings. 

“So you see, daughter Bertha,” said Old 
Gargy, her daddy, “what these human creatures 
can do for us. So, do you let them alone; and, 
in the future, harm them not, even in play. Then 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


53 

they will give us more bread and cheese and 
milk.” 

The good daughter placed one of the big 
cheeses, still uneaten, upon her thumb nail, as a 
sign of truth. Then she declared she never 
would disturb anything, man or beast in the 
valley. 

Now there was another giant, named Hotap, 
who, in disposition, was very different from his 
neighbor, and often played bad tricks on the 
farmers. He loved to start avalanches, by mak- 
ing a wet snowball called a soaker, and then 
flinging it over the snow and down into the val- 
ley, upon the villages. In this way, he ruined 
many houses, barns, and stables, killing men, 
goats, sheep, donkeys, chickens and cattle. 

Besides this Hotap used to lie in wait for nice 
little boys, especially those that were rosy, and 
plump, and to catch them and eat them up. He 
sometimes came back, to his cave home, with his 
pocket full of small boys. He thus ruined so 
many families, and made so many mothers cry, 
that they sometimes called him Old Schoppe, 
which means something like Boy-Eater, or, more 
exactly, our John Barleycorn. 

But Schoppe was a giant that destroyed many 
more small boys, than any other giant, or ogre, 
and in a diff erent way. By and bye, Hotap and 
Schoppe, who at first were rivals, became part- 


54 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


ners. Instead of living in caVes; they went into 
business and set up shops all over Switzerland. 
They lured young men into these shops, and set 
them to drinking poisonous stuff, which the 
giants made, so that the roads, and streets, and 
gutters at nights, and early in the morning, were 
often full of fellows lying asleep on the ground, 
or like pigs in the mud. 

Then, further, the two giants made it the gen- 
eral fashion of putting Schoppe’s drink even 
into things cooked for children. 

Hotap found that, as partner to Schoppe, he 
could catch and destroy more boys in this new 
business, than in the old way. So he laid aside 
his club and stopped trying to destroy villages 
by rolling avalanches on them. He put on fine 
clothes, and made his shops very attractive, by 
looking glasses, and pretty pitchers, and tum- 
blers. But, finally, he himself got so fond of 
the drink which Schoppe made, out of barley, and 
rye, and other grain that he drank himself to 
death and was buried in a cemetery. Over his 
grave a monument was carved, in the shape of a 
barrel, with a bung, and spout, and tap, as if 
he were continuing business in the next world. 

But Schoppe kept on in the business. He 
ground up grain, and wasted so much, that he 
made the price of bread very high, so that poor 
people often had to go hungry. Out of the good. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


55 


barley and rye, he made the stuff that poisoned 
the brains of the young men and turned them 
into flapjacks, so that they lay as stupid as stones 
in the ground. He filled up the men, until they 
were hardly better than swill barrels. In this 
way many boys were ground up into poverty or 
stupidity, and the graveyards were filled so fast, 
by old Schoppe, that people called his saloon the 
Mill. At last, the big fat fellow, with a red 
nose, died also. 

So at Berne, one sees the monument of 
Schoppe or Boy-Eater. He stands in bronze 
over a fountain. He has boys in his pocket, sam- 
ples of boys in his hands and mouth, some more 
at his feet, and a good supply at hand, to chew 
up and swallow. 

Everyone goes to see the statue of the Boy 
Eater. Yet many others still follow his busi- 
ness and eat up the boys. 


VI 


THE DWARF AND HIS CONFEC- 
TIONERY 

O F all the families, tribes and clans of the 
little brown Folks, that are only a yard- 
stick high, the Swiss dwarfs are the 
funniest, and at the same time the most friendly. 
They excell all others in being kind to every liv- 
ing creature and in doing good things for human 
folks. They look after the chamois, to keep them 
from being shot at, or killed, by hunters that are 
cruel. Or, they whisper to the fish, to keep 
away from naughty boys. They even go after 
lost cattle and goats, tend the flocks, milk the 
cows, make cheese, and do lots of good favors 
for the people whom they like. There are the 
kind shepherds and housemaids, who give them 
occasionally a bowlful of milk, or leave out a 
cup of cream for them to drink. They know 
where treasures lie in the ground, where the best 
pastures are to be found for the cows, and the 
secrets of the grasses and flowers are at their 
fingers’ ends. 

In time of storm and wind, when it is too cold, 
56 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


57 


or when avalanches are tumbling down the 
mountains, they keep away from the land, and 
are never visible. Going down deep, into the 
caves, or mines, they shut themselves up, until 
Jack Frost has departed and the storms and 
greatest cold are over. They shrink away, es- 
pecially from the South wind, called the Fohn, 
which blows for seventeen days at a time, for it 
is like poison to them, and blinds their eyes. 

To the people who treat them badly, or make 
fun of their feet, or heads, or laugh and jeer at 
them, because they are so small, the Swiss dwarfs 
are very mischievous, and even revengeful, and 
do such folks great harm in the kitchens and 
stables. They smash the milk pans and cheese 
kettles, upset the churns, lead the cattle astray, 
tie the cows’ tails together, and put stones and 
sticks in their food- troughs. Usually they do so 
much mischief, that the rude or cruel people have 
to be good, and treat the dwarfs with more po- 
liteness. 

As for their looks, and the way they dress, the 
Swiss dwarfs beat all. They are web-footed, 
like geese, but they cover themselves, from head 
to toes, with long green cloaks. They wear gay 
red caps on their heads, which look like the cowls 
of monks. Most curious of all, are their beards, 
which are thick and long, and often white as 


snow. 


58 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


A hundred years or so ago, many stories were 
told by old folks about the dwarfs. One of these 
will show how kind, obliging, and useful, or how 
surly and troublesome, the dwarfs could be — ac- 
cording as they are treated by merry, or by 
grumpy folks. 

For example, Mr. Hilty was a dairy farmer, 
or shepherd, who was always ready to treat a 
dwarf with a cocoanut dipper full of cream. Be- 
cause of this, the dwarfs were willing, whenever 
he called them, to look after his herds, when he 
wanted to leave his chalet, in the high pastures, 
and go down into the valley, to sell his cheeses, 
or to buy groceries. 

But by and bye, Hilty, while he was a good 
fellow, became too inquisitive. He wanted to 
know the secrets of the dwarfs and even pestered 
them with questions. Then, they warned him 
that they could not tell, and that he must not 
ask. When he got too troublesome, the chief of 
the dwarfs thought it was time to give him a 
lesson. So one day, Hilty was invited, by an 
old white beard, to come and pay a visit to his 
cave. 

When the shepherd, who had grown rather fat, 
was very tired, after much climbing up and over 
the rocks, with much puffing and blowing, ar- 
rived at the cave, he had to stop and get his 
breath. The chief dwarf came out, and smil- 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


59 

ingly invited him into the cave, where he sat 
down on the stool offered him. 

Hilty was amazed, as he looked at the beauti- 
ful stalactites, hanging from the ceiling, and his 
eyes opened wide at the ingots of gold and sil- 
ver, which he saw lying on the floor. Piles of 
silver ore, not yet smelted, and heaps of rocky 
crystals, topazes, onyx, and some sapphires and 
opals lay around. His host, the dwarf, paid no 
attention to these, but led him further in the 
cave, where was a sofa, made of thick soft moss, 
on which he was told to lounge at ease. 

Before Hilty, there was spread a table, 
crowded with every sort of good things to eat, 
except, that there was no fish or meat in sight. 
The dwarf explained to his guest that all the 
cookies, goodies, and eatables were made from 
things in the vegetable kingdom. 

After Hilty had enjoyed a good dinner, the 
dwarf told his guest that he would reveal to him 
one of the secrets of his skill, but he must not 
ask to be told more. He would be shown how 
to make delicious sweets, and valuable confec- 
tionery, from a common weed, which the 
chamois fed on every day. But this done, he re- 
peated, Hilty must, on no account, ask for any 
other secret. Nor must he try to learn any re- 
ceipt about any other delicacy, or even watch, 
while the cooking was going on. If he did, the 


6o 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


dwarf would be angry, and cut off the shepherd 
from his friendship. He might even punish him, 
by causing him to lose his way, when returning 
home. 

Hilty gave his promise, making also the sign 
of the cross on his breast. He swore an oath, that 
he would not see, hear, touch, taste, or try, even, 
to feel, any further than was permitted and 
clearly commanded him. 

Trusting his guest fully, the dwarf first took 
a basketfull of what we call “Iceland moss,” 
which grows so plentifully in the high Alpine 
pastures. Then he showed how, with water and 
fire, he could make the delicacy known among us 
as “Iceland Moss Paste.” 

At once, after tasting a morsel of the confec- 
tion, with gusto, Hilty smacked his lips and 
began to dream of getting rich. He resolved to 
open a shop and make the new confection in his 
own village. 

But this Hilty was a greedy and covetous fel- 
low and often made a glutton of himself. See- 
ing that the dwarf had everything ready, to make 
more confectionery, of other kinds, he made up 
his mind to learn all the secrets. “This time,” 
he said to himself, “I shall set up, not a village 
shop, but a big confectionery store in Lucerne, 
the great city.” He never thought more, of 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 6i 

keeping the solemn promise, which he had just 
given to the dwarf. 

So, pretending to be very sleepy, he asked the 
dwarf to let him lie down at length on the moss 
sofa and take a nap. The kind host at once 
agreed, and made his guest comfortable. In a 
few minutes, pretending to be asleep, Hilty, who 
was a gawk and a bumpkin, in manners, let his 
nose and open mouth give vent to snores, long 
and loud. 

This, in itself, was bad enough, and the dwarf 
was disgusted at such manners and much irri- 
tated by the noise. But, worse than this was to 
come. This ill mannered dairyman, who kept 
peeping between his eyelids, got very much ex- 
cited, as he saw the dwarf doing the most won- 
derful things, with common weeds and flowers. 
Out of these he drew juices, flavors, coloring 
matter, aromatic liquids, and sugars, either in 
crystal, or in the form of gum or candy. Out 
of his pots, pans and kettles, he poured what 
looked like the most tempting things to eat. 
They smelled so delightful that Hilty forgot him- 
self and, with his eyes wide open, stared at the 
dwarf and what he was doing. 

By this time, Hilty was building great air cas- 
tles. He saw himself in a great candy store in 
Lucerne employing fifty pretty girls, in attrac- 
tive uniform, to allure the public, wait at the 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


64 

had to make a lane and keep open a passage 
way, through the press of old and young folks, 
so that ordinary people could get through. 

So, for a half hour or more, inside that shep- 
herd’s brain, a moving picture show went on, 
as if a five-reel film was being rolled off, and 
his imagination had spread the screen. The 
bright colors, in this picture, of the furore for 
dwarf’s candy exceeded any gallery of paintings 
known in Paris, or any panorama that could be 
made on canvas. 

In fact the dairyman was so sure of the good 
time coming, that, with his eyes wide open, he 
actually rubbed his two hands gleefully, right 
before the dwarf. The next thing he did, was 
that he so far forgot his promise, as to be heard 
in his glee. Instead of holding his tongue in 
silence, he talked out loud to himself saying, 
“Am I not a lucky fellow? By Saint Matthew, 
I am in luck, this time, surely.” 

Hearing the strange noise, the King of the 
dwarfs turned around to look. In one hand 
was his skillet, and in the other a ladle and a 
cloth; and with both he was holding a very hot 
kettle, full of some liquid. In fact, he was just 
about to pour out the boiling chocolate over a 
dish of caramels, made after his own recipe. 

But seeing the lazy lubber, wide awake, when 
he was believed to be fast asleep, the dwarf’s 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


65 

whole appearance changed. Instead of smiles, 
in his usually happy manner, his eyes blazed with 
wrath, like fire. His face wore one long scowl. 
He danced with rage, and screamed out, 

“So that’s the way you keep your word, is it? 
You ungrateful bumpkin ! Take that, and that !” 

Then, he flung the pot of hot chocolate at the 
fellow’s head, and followed up his attack, with 
the ladle and cloth, batting him out of the cave. 

What happened just after that, the dairyman 
never could, or would tell. He was so stunned, 
that he lay insensible for several hours, as he 
thought. The scalding, from the hot chocolate, 
made his face smart fearfully. Tearing off part 
of his shirt, he bandaged up his head and fea- 
tures as best he could, and then hobbled back 
home. It was weeks, before his broken head was 
mended enough, and the ugly scars on his face 
had healed. At last, he showed himself on the 
street, where the small boys made his life a 
burden. 

Henceforth the neighbors nicknamed him 
“The Dwarf’s Guest,” but he never set up a 
candy store. 


VII 


TWO GOOD NATURED DRAGONS 
HE whole family of dragons, that are 



scattered all over the world, have a very 


bad reputation. It is said that they feed 
on fat girls, and will not taste anything but nice, 
tender, juicy maidens. If they try to eat old 
folks, and grown up people, they get a stomach 
ache at once. Then, it takes many bottles of 
medicine, besides keeping them a long time on 
a baby’s diet of milk and bread, while they are 
getting well, before they are in full health again. 

But when they regain their appetite, they roam 
around through the country, devouring maidens 
by the dozen. Then all the fathers, that have 
lovely daughters, must be on their guard. They 
keep their girls at home, for fear there will be 
none of them left. 

This habit of the dragons to relish, on their 
bill of fare, only lovely maidens, makes the brave 
young men want to fight and kill the monsters, 
because, with so few girls left, they fear that 
they may not be able to get wives, and, without 
these, they cannot have homes or be husbands. 


66 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


67 

But the old dragons were foxy fellows, very 
cunning and crafty. So they kept out of the way 
of the knights and heroes, with their swords and 
spears, and arrows, and bow guns: and even 
from the fairies, who cast spells over them. It 
was only once in a while, that a lucky fellow, 
like Saint George, could stick his spear clear 
down the monster’s throat. It happened, only 
rarely, that one like Sigurd, the Norseman, or 
Susanoo, the Japanese, was able to slay one of 
the big, clumsy, crawling creatures, with their 
trusty swords. 

Happily there came, once in a while, a good 
natured dragon; that is, the right sort of a fel- 
low, jolly in disposition, and kind to boys. Such 
a dragon would even invite a well-behaved man 
to take dinner with him, and even point out what 
food on the dragon’s table tasted best. 

Of course, the man would not always like what 
was served up before him to eat; for a mortal 
cannot always enjoy what comes out of the 
dragon’s kitchen, nor can he be sure of what 
he may be swallowing. Nobody enjoys chew- 
ing up his grandmother, or his aunts, or cousins, 
or sisters, even though he might, once in a great 
while, feel like doing so. 

So when one goes to see a dragon, and does 
not, himself, get swallowed up, he had better take 


68 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


a sandwich or two with him, and not taste the 
dragon’s delicacies. 

No pretty girl, or plump young lady, ought 
ever to pay a visit to a dragon’s cave, because, 
however kind and polite the monster would wish 
to be, to his guest, his appetite might be too 
strong for him. Moreover, the very sight of the 
lovely maiden might make his mouth water, and 
then, after roaring out, “um, um,” he would be 
very apt to gulp her down, at one mouthful. 
This might happen so quickly, that she would 
not know where she was, or even think what her 
mother would say, when she missed her, on iron- 
ing day. So, even in the case of a well-behaved 
dragon, or one supposed to have a good char- 
acter, any person had better be careful about 
visiting a dragon’s cave. 

Now there was a man in Switzerland, a cooper, 
who made tubs and buckets, and, once in a great 
while, a hogshead or a bath tub. His shop sign 
was a well-hooped barrel, set over his doorway. 
He was especially expert at making and mend- 
ing milk churns. Some of the girls used to de- 
clare that butter came more quickly, and with 
less hard work, in churns made by him, than in 
any others. 

His name was not Rip Van Winkle, whose 
father, by the way, was born in Germany, but he 
had a wife with a bad temper. She had a great 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 69 

reputation for scolding. It was said that her 
“tongue, which was only three inches long, could 
kill a man six feet high.” In fact, some folks 
declared that she did not need a sword, but she 
could fight a dragon with her fiery tongue alone. 
Let her but open her mouth, and such a volley 
of abuse would be shot out, at the monster, that, 
no matter how big, or how hungry he was, he 
would curl up his tail and run, or else flap his 
wings, like a frightened chicken, and be off. 

Now when this cooper was asked how he felt, 
about having such a scold for a wife, he used to 
make apologies, and say, “Well, it was not al- 
ways so. Once, she was so sweet and lovely, that 
I wanted to eat her up.” 

Then, after a minute or two, he would add, 
“And I have always been sorry, ever since, that 
I did not do it.” 

When his wife heard of this, she called him 
“the son of a dragon, and a woman-eater.” 

One day, the cooper received an unusually se- 
vere punishment, not at the hands, but from the 
mouth of his wife. This, however, he richly de- 
served; for, after drinking, with his companions, 
all night, she had found him lying in the gutter. 
After she had rolled him over, like a flapjack, 
to see if the drunken lout was her husband, he 
got up, looking very sheepish. Then he prom- 


70 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


ised to work hard that day. So she went back 
home, to get his breakfast ready. 

But instead of going to his house or shop, 
where the wood shavings smelled so sweet, he 
resolved to take a walk, to get rid of a splitting 
headache. So he scrambled up the mountain 
side, expecting, on his return, to tell his wife, 
that he had been out in the woods, looking for 
timber, to make hoops and barrel staves. 

He hardly knew where he was going, for he 
was stupid and half dizzy, from so much drink, 
from the night before, and pretty soon he slipped 
and fell. Over and over, he rolled, until, com- 
ing to the edge of a precipice, he stumbled and 
slid far down into a bog. This cooled him off 
and brought him to his senses. 

He tried long to find the way out, but could 
see no hole or cleft in the rocks. After a while, 
he saw what looked like a tunnel, or, it might 
be, a grotto. 

Entering in and peering about him, he dis- 
cerned four great round lights, like moons. At 
this, his heart began to beat, his blood to swell 
in his veins, and his hair to rise, nearly knock- 
ing his hat off. He saw two streams of fire issue 
from beneath and between these shining orbs. 
After a few seconds, he saw clearly two dragons, 
that were breathing out streams of fire, that 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


7i 

nearly scorched off his eyebrows, while the 
sulphurous smell nearly knocked him over. 

At this, the cooper made the sign of the cross, 
and prayed for protection. Thereupon, both the 
dragons, that had got their jaws ready to swal- 
low him, shut their mouths. They crawled up 
gently, with their tails down, and they gave him 
to understand that they were friendly, by lick- 
ing his hands and feet. This they kept on doing, 
until all the mud, into which he had tumbled, and 
which had stuck to his clothes, was entirely gone. 
It was almost like taking a steam bath. 

As the winter came on, the appetite of the 
dragons became less ravenous and they ate little. 
Like bears and marmots, they went into their 
cave, and kept very quiet, as if asleep. More- 
over, even in summer, when these dragons could 
not get a supply of maidens, they devoured a 
sweetish substance, that exuded from a cleft in 
the rocks, which must have been filled by a colony 
of bees, for honey trickled plentifully down into 
the gully. At any rate, the cooper got to like 
the dragon’s winter food so well, that he won- 
dered how he could ever have enjoyed black 
bread and cheese. In a month, his stomach got 
quite used to the new diet. 

He was not afraid of the dragons, and they 
seemed to enjoy his company. Perhaps they 
thought that, when the spring should come, he 


72 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


might tell them, when his wife went abroad out 
of the house; and then, if starving, they might 
make a dinner of her. 

Meanwhile, the cooper was missed in the vil- 
lage; and, as people wanted their tubs mended, 
several parties of strong young men climbed the 
mountains to find him. They sought in every 
grove and wood, over hill and down dale, in val- 
ley, and on the slopes, but his body could not 
be found. So, he was mourned as dead; for, in 
spite of his faults, he was considered a good 
fellow. 

But in spring time, when the sun began to 
climb high in the sky, and the sap rose in the 
trees, the flowers bloomed, and, the cows went, 
with the cheesemakers, to the higher pastures, 
the two dragons grew restless, and their appe- 
tites came back in full force. Hoping to catch 
a nice fat maiden or two, they began to stretch, 
and roll, and to writhe, and tumble. They 
flapped, and furled, and unfolded their wings, 
until they felt ready to soar and swoop, with all 
their former skill. 

By this time, also, the cooper began to get 
homesick. Even though afraid to meet his wife, 
he was longing to see his children, after his long 
absence. He had got very tired of looking only 
on rocks and the walls of the ravine. More- 
over, the dragons did not seem to be as sociable. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


73 


as at first, and they amused him no longer. Be- 
sides, he wanted to see his neighbors again, to 
tell them of his adventures and even to pose as 
a hero. He feared, however, that before he tried 
to get away, the dragons might still eat him up ; 
for they snorted, and bellowed, and rubbed their 
stomachs, with their forepaws, as if hungry 
enough, indeed, to swallow a horse with its har- 
ness on. 

One warm day, the cooper heard, afar off, the 
echoes of the Alpine horn. He listened with de- 
light to the yodel music, as the shepherds called 
their cows and goats. As he was wondering how 
he could get out of the valley, and whether the 
dragons would let him go, he saw the larger one 
of the two monsters unfurl his wings, which were 
as big as a windmill’s sails. He flew straight up 
in the air, and, when near the blue sky, circled 
about a few times, like the carrier pigeons, which 
the cooper had seen at home. Then, careering 
far away, he disappeared in the dim distance be- 
yond. No doubt, that day, some poor daddy, on 
coming home at night, missed one of his daugh- 
ters. The cooper 1 had noticed, that both the 
dragons had been roaring with hunger, for sev- 
eral days previously, and now he had his fears. 

So the cooper watched his chance, determined 
not to let the other dragon get away, without his 
stealing a ride on the monster’s back. He knew 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


74 

that a man’s weight, for a dragon to carry in 
the air, would hardly be felt, so much as that 
of a feather. 

For a dragon had the power of a catapult, the 
strength of a rhinoceros, a roar like a lion, teeth 
like a tiger, fins like a fish, claws like a falcon, 
wings like an eagle, and scales like an alligator. 
In short, a dragon was a whole menagerie in 
itself. 

So watching his chance, the cooper, at the very 
moment that he saw the second dragon unfold 
his wings, grabbed hold of his tail; and, though 
it was slippery, he hung on to this, for dear life. 
Far up in the air, the monster flew, at first very 
high, and then low, as if he knew where the 
cooper lived. Then, coming near his village, the 
monster swooped down near the earth, and 
dropped his burden gently on the top of a wagon 
loaded with hay. He was off before any one 
could let fly an arrow from the string, or shoot 
a bolt out of a bow gun, or say “By Saint 
Matthew.” 

As the cooper climbed down from the hay 
wagon, all the ducks, geese and chickens set up 
a concert of welcome. Donkeys brayed,, the 
cows lowed, and dogs barked, and cats meowed. 
His wife, instead of scolding him, threw her 
arms around him, and wept for joy. His chil- 
dren gathered about, and so held his arms and 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


75 

legs, that puss could not get near to rub her 
sides against his limbs. All his neighbors and 
friends welcomed him back with delight. 

The next day, his shop was filled with leaky 
tubs, and churns that had lost their hoops, and 
barrels that needed new staves. In addition, to 
this old work awaiting him, the orders for new 
utensils came in so fast, that he expected soon to 
be a rich man. He was so grateful, for his de- 
liverance and safe return, and for his continuing 
prosperity, that, instead of hoarding up his 
money, he presented, to the church, in his village, 
a beautiful silver communion service, on which 
two dragons were engraved. 

But his happiness was but for a short time, for 
his stomach had changed, and could no longer di- 
gest the ordinary food of mortals, not even but- 
termilk; and, as for cheese, it nearly killed him. 
Feeding so long, on honey and dragon’s food, 
had ruined him for liking any other articles of 
diet. 

In vain his wife cooked everything very nicely 
and offered it in the most tempting form. The 
maidens of the village, thankful at not being di- 
gested by dragons, tried their best to tempt his 
appetite, with the very finest their dainty hands 
could make, in the form of broths, salads, meats, 
cakes, apple dumplings, puddings and tarts. 
The delicatessen shops sent the choicest tidbits 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


76 

they could roast before their spits, bake in their 
ovens, or show on their tables, or in their shop 
windows. Nothing would avail, and the poor 
man died of slow starvation ; and this, before even 
autumn had come. 

After so sad an event, the popularity of even 
good dragons waned, so that it is hard, nowa- 
days, to make anyone believe there were such 
creatures, that are named in encyclopedias. It 
is now, the firm opinion of most Swiss folks, old 
and young, that the only good dragon is a dead 
one, while those neither dead or alive, but only 
painted, or in fairy tales, are good enough to 
know about. 


VIII 


THE FROST GIANTS AND THE SUN- 
BEAM FAIRIES 

M ANY people think Switzerland the 
most beautiful country on earth. It is 
certainly the world’s playground. 
Every year, many hundreds of thousands of per- 
sons from various countries, go there to spend 
either the winter or the summer. They come to 
enjoy the good sleep that comes from the brac- 
ing air, to climb the high peaks, to see the flow- 
ers, to hear the echoes of the Alpine horn, to 
ride over the mountain roads, or to be whisked 
up, on electric railways, to summits among the 
clouds. With most of the tourists, the effect of 
the sharp atmosphere is to whet their appetites, 
even more than their wits; but perhaps this is 
what they seek. 

The sick and the well alike get vast benefit. 
They think it great fun to find so much ice 
and snow, and also so much sunshine, as if win- 
ter and summer liked to play together. In 
February, hardy and strong people enjoy sled- 
ding and sliding, besides skis and skittles, and 
77 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


78 

many other merry sports. Children go out on 
sleds, with almost nothing on them, to enjoy 
the air baths. 

Yet Switzerland was not always a flowery 
playground, rich in splendid hotels, where the 
boarders’ bills catch the spirit of the place and 
become mountain climbers. For ages, it was a 
sort of North Pole, set in the middle of Europe, 
frozen in, tight and fast, and with mountains 
of snow and rivers of ice, where no animals could 
live. In this age, everything was white. Then 
there were no animals, men, women, children or 
babies; no flowers, no birds, no fish; no farms, 
no vineyards, but only dreadful cold, all the 
year round, and for millions of years. 

Then the frost giants ruled a land forever 
white with snow, that never melted, and their 
king sat on the top of a solid mountain of ice. 
These frost giants would not allow anything 
alive to come near them. They made it the law 
that, whatever had eyes or nose, feet or hands, 
or paws or wings, should be instantly frozen to 
death, and their solid carcasses packed away in 
a refrigerator, a million years old. 

The queen of the fairies, that lived down in 
the warm meadows, felt sorry that so fine a place 
should have nothing in it that was alive, or had 
any color, red, pink, blue, or yellow, violet or 
green. She believed that the land could be con- 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


79 


quered from the frost giants and made a country 
in which boys and girls could play and pick 
flowers. 

It might, indeed, take several millions of years 
to melt the ice and cover the ground with flow- 
ery meadows. But what was that? Because 
fairies never care anything about days, months 
or years. They never grow old and do not use 
almanacs, because not dwelling in bodies like 
ours, and never having lived like us mortals, they 
do not get sick or have any funerals or ceme- 
teries. They are saved all expenses of being 
buried, for they do not have any graves. There 
are no doctors, or undertakers, in fairy land, even 
though the immortelle flowers bloom everywhere. 
It seems to be that because some are wiser than 
others that they may be called old, or mothers, 
aunts or grandmothers. 

To carry out her purpose, the fairy queen 
made a friend of the sun and asked his help. 
This, Old Sol, as the fairies called him, was very 
glad to give; because he had rescued other parts 
of the world from the ice-kings and made many 
lands bright and beautiful. He thought that the 
monarch of the frost world and his white giants 
had reigned long enough, in Switzerland. Be- 
sides, Old Sol wanted to show that he had not 
yet done his best work. It is true that he had 
made other lands look lovely, changing them 


8o 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


from barren rocks and sand, to fruitful fields, 
groves and gardens, rich in wheat and corn, fruit 
trees and berry bushes, besides peaches and 
apples and pears, roses and lilies. 

Old Sol declared that, with the aid of the 
fairies, he would make Switzerland the most 
beautiful of all countries, so that many people 
from foreign lands would come to see it. He 
would scoop out lakes, channel out rivers, smooth 
the face of the country, and make it lovely with 
pastures, rich in cows and goats, and spangled 
with flowers of many hues. Yes, if the fairies 
would promise to put enough clothes on their 
favorites, and wrap them up in downy under- 
garments, with lots of fur and wool for over- 
coats, he would help the prettiest flowers to climb 
up to the high mountains. Then he would prom- 
ise to furnish heat enough, so that they could 
keep warm and live there. He would make it so 
pleasant for them, that they would never get 
homesick, or want to go back to their mothers in 
the valley below. In spite of the frost giants, 
the storms and winds, the tempests, and the icy 
breath of the giants, these flowers would bloom, 
and nod, and laugh at and defy all enemies. 

What was even more wonderful, Old Sol 
promised that every flower, as it climbed higher, 
should have a richer color on its cheeks, so that 
all the world would wonder. Then, the plants, 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


81 


in the warmer regions lower down, should envy 
the brilliant faces of their sisters so high up. In 
fact, it was to he a beauty contest. “Nothing 
venture nothing have,” should be the rule. They 
might not grow to be so tall. Their feet might 
be larger, for they would need strong toes, to 
hold on tight to the ground, when old Boreas, 
the wind giant, tried his best to blow them away ; 
but to win out, they were sure to do, in the end, 
and beat Jack Frost and all his army. 

When the fairies were called together, and 
told by their queen that the Sun would be their 
friend and help them every day, and never tire 
of his good work, you ought to have seen how 
happy they were. They all clapped their hands, 
and every one, big and little, wanted to be brave 
and go out to fight the frost giants. Each volun- 
teer said, “I am not afraid. The frost giants 
can’t freeze me.” 

It was wonderful how the pretty fairies were 
perfectly willing to be changed into humble look- 
ing plants, that never could grow very tall, but 
lie quite flat on the ground, and have deep roots 
in the crannies. They would have to live with- 
out much society, or excitement, and spend their 
lives in clefts and hollows. What was hardest 
to bear, was, that most of them would have to 
live like nuns; for in the case of many of them, 


82 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

their beauty would never be appreciated or even 
seen. 

Some were glad even to become plain meadow 
grasses. When one plump fairy was told she 
would become an Alpine Poa, and must cany 
her babies on her back, she gladly consented say- 
ing, “I am willing.” 

The enthusiasm for the war became an epi- 
demic. Some of the big fairies asked to be 
changed into trees — oak, maple, spruce, pine, or 
birch. This was hard, for those who had been 
regular chatterboxes would now be able only to 
sough in the breeze, or whisper in the winds, and 
they could roar only in a gale or tempest. Some 
even begged to be allowed to take on the form 
of the old-fashioned arolla, the most ancient of 
all the Swiss trees. 

It was astonishing to note how ready, these 
pretty fairies were, to put off their lovely gos- 
samer-like robes, lay aside their wings, and wear 
such plain clothes, as some of them must, who 
volunteered to be meadow and rock plants. But 
then, the idea of fighting the frost giants, and 
rescuing the land from ice and snow, had filled 
them all with enthusiasm. It was like patriot- 
ism among mortals. But then, they loved the 
children and wanted them to have a pretty play- 
ground made ready for them, so that, when 
babies and cradles came into the land, the flowers 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 83 

would be in bloom, for the little folks to pick and 
string around their necks. 

So the queen of the fairies and her wise coun- 
sellors enrolled and equipped an army of her 
fairies, who had agreed to be turned into plants, 
for the long war against the frost giants. Of 
all these, Old Sol was to be the general. Heaps 
of fur and flannel, wool and velvet, and hair 
and down, were stored up, to make thick under- 
clothes, and stout overcoats to keep warm, and 
all sorts of wiry stuff, for toes to grip tight and 
keep hold of the rocks. Then, with plenty of 
rich paints and dyes, to color their cheeks, the 
Fairy Queen summoned the volunteers to come 
forth. 

As each name was called, and a fairy stepped 
out, the queen waved her wand. First, she 
pointed it upward, to where the stars were play- 
ing hide and seek among the snowy peaks. 
Then, touching each kneeling fairy, she tapped 
with her star-tipped wand, upon the neck of 
each. 

Presto ! What change ! Eyes, nose, ears, 
lovely yellow, or raven black, or shining auburn 
hair, limbs, hands and feet and wings dis- 
appeared, in a golden mist. 

When one looked again, there was, where each 
fairy had kneeled down, a flower. Never was 
the like seen before, in all the wonderful floral 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


84 

world, either as to the kind, or blossom, or the 
shape of the stalk, leaves or petals of the plants. 
Some hardly looked like flowers at all, while 
others were recognized at once, as cousins or 
sisters of old friends; but so dressed up, as if for 
an arctic journey, as scarcely to be recognized. 
One had a family of little folks on its back — 
“As hairy and furry as an Esquimaux baby,” 
whispered one fairy to the other. 

Here was one creature, dazzlingly splendid in 
colors, while, alongside of her, was a little lady 
robed entirely in white, as if she were to be the 
bride of Jack Frost, and marry him in a coun- 
try where the tint of ermine and ptarmigan bird 
was the only one in fashion. 

The lowliness, of some of these new born 
flowers, was perhaps the most astonishing thing 
about them. Even when in bloom they were 
not over an inch in height, while their neigh- 
bors, down in the valley, were all nearly as tall 
as yard sticks. One group became only plain 
meadow grass, while their relatives seemed 
dressed for Fifth Avenue, or the main street of 
Zurich or Berne. 

Although, when the fairies were turned into 
trees, and were, at first, hardly higher than a 
needle, and not one of them had a body as thick 
as a thimble, they at once began whispering, for 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 85 

it was hard to give up the old habit of talking 
every minute. 

Of one pretty creature, shaped like a blue bell, 
with scalloped edges, it was noticed that she shut 
up her mouth, and did not say a word. At this, 
one wise old fairy looked up at the sky, and said, 
“It is certainly going to rain.” Thereupon, 
since flowers were so cheap, this one, they called 
“the poor man’s weather glass.” Another, that 
had a curiously shaped blossom, they named 
Lady’s Slipper. To still another, very reddish, 
tufty, and strong, they gave the title of Prince’s 
F eather ; while an unusually pert and active one, 
that had a very expressive face, they christened 
Johnny-jump-up. This fairy had whimpered a 
little, at the idea of being named after a boy; 
but, when told she would have clothes of many 
colors, she was instantly happy, and welcomed 
her change into a flower with a face that would 
never need rouge, or lily white powder. 

While these, thus far mentioned, were mostly 
valley or pasture flowers, and not expected to 
live very far up the mountain slopes, several 
others volunteered to lead what some called “the 
forlorn hope,” but they were too full of “pep” 
for that and took the name of the advance guard. 
These were especially equipped for fighting the 
cold. These were the edelweiss, the Alpine rose, 
and the octopetalla. They were made so frost- 


86 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


proof, by fur and thick clothes, that they could 
laugh in the very faces of the frost giants, and 
dare them to do their worst in trying their best 
to freeze them out. 

Of the one, that seemed done up entirely in 
white flannel, and that kept its blooms in a 
bunch, like a rosette, everybody knows, for it 
was the edelweiss — proud of her name, the noble 
white. 

Millions of fairies gathered together on the 
hill slopes, to see the procession start, and did 
not mind waiting a thousand years or so. They 
hung on bushes, sat on top of rocks and boulders 
and on the tree-branches, or stood or hovered, 
wherever they could get either a peep, or a good 
view of the fairy flower army, that was to march 
up to the heights and wrestle with the giants. 

Some wondered how the battle would go, and 
if the war would ever end. Could they possibly 
march up the mountain sides, and hold their own, 
amid the blasts of winter and amid the eternal 
snow and ice, and win the land now covered up ? 
Not a sign of field, or pasture, or road, or any 
space clear of snow, was then visible. There 
was nothing but ice, many miles thick and loom- 
ing so far up in the air, as to seem, at night, to 
touch the stars. The jagged rocks, splintered 
by the lightning, and the mountain sides, clothed 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 87 

with glaciers, like armor, and which were billions 
of tons in weight, seemed very forbidding. 

“ J ust give us a few millions of years, and we’ll 
surely win,” cried the fairy queen, who was proud 
of her beautiful army, and who, with them all, 
knew or cared nothing for what we call time. 

Fairies never cry, but some felt as if they 
might weep, to see so many pretty flowers killed, 
as they feared they would be. Even the idea of 
the chills and shivers, they would have to suffer, 
made some of the timid ones feel creepy. 

Even suppose they could survive ice and frost, 
and the cold breath of the strong winds, that 
might uproot them, how could they resist the 
avalanches, that might overwhelm and crush 
them? If whole forests of giant trees were often 
leveled, like egg shells, and flattened like floun- 
ders, by these rolling terrors, or torn up by land- 
slides, or ground to gravel, by falling rocks, or 
carried away by landslides, how could tiny and 
tender flowers hope to escape? 

But the fairy queen knew the power of her 
friend, the Sun, and the tenacity and perse- 
verance of her flower children. So, laughing at 
such forebodings, she bade the lovely flowers and 
little trees begin their march. Their orders to 
advance were steadily “forward and upward.” 
They were to hold the ground gained, inch by 
inch. They must even try, again and again, to 


88 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


split the rocks, and be willing to suffer cold, wet, 
wind, and not be out of sorts, or show bad tem- 
per, when it rained too much, or the clouds hid 
the sun. They must take advantage of every 
nook, crevice, crack and cranny. 

“Don’t be alarmed,” said one wise fairy to her 
neighbor. “I’ll warrant you they will pretty 
soon complain that it is too hot, and sometimes 
even ask the sun to veil his face with clouds. 
When the evil imps, that ride on the Fohn, or 
south wind, visit them, one or more will be eager 
to marry a frost giant, to keep cool.” 

But the other fairy said, “that is only gossip,” 
and she did not believe they would “ever be sorry 
and want to change back.” 

When, after their first victories, the cows and 
goats should come, and the birds make their 
nests, and men and women arrive, and the boys 
and girls play, these fairies, thus changed into 
flowers, were not to object to have their stalks 
eaten up by the cattle, or their seeds to be swal- 
lowed by the birds, or their blossoms to be 
plucked by the children. Even when they should 
come to their best bloom, and seem too pretty to 
be touched, they were to welcome the cows and 
goats. 

To all these directions, the new plants, trees, 
and flowers, nodded their heads, and the war be- 
gan. The older fairies went back to the vine- 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


89 

yards, groves, forests, dales and meadows, in the 
lower lands of sunshine, of mild climate, and of 
fair weather, and the battle was on. 

Several millions of years slipped away, and 
some of the fairies in the warm countries had 
almost forgot their cousins in the high Alps. 
Then it happened that some thousands of them 
made up a party to go and visit what they had 
once left long ago, as a polar region, of thick 
ice where no land was visible. 

What a change, and how lovely! When they 
reached Switzerland, and looked over the land- 
scape, they could not, at first, believe their own 
eyes. True, it was mid-summer when they ar- 
rived; but, as far as the eye could reach, they 
beheld valleys and meadows spangled with 
flowers, from which floated the sound, or echoes, 
of tinkling bells, where contented cows and goats 
were browsing. On the sweet perfumed air, were 
wafted the aromatic odors of the delicious herb- 
age, freshly cropped by the cattle. Pretty 
houses, on the flat spaces, or perched on the hill 
slopes, told of happy homes. Children were 
playing games, or picking flowers. Church 
spires pointed toward Heaven. In one village, a 
great long parade of sleek cows, their well 
groomed coats shining in the sun, and one with 
a milking stool between her horns, was moving 
up, where the grass was most luscious. Don- 


90 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


keys and horses, laden with cheese and garden 
produce, were moving in lengthened lines to the 
markets. Here and there, castles, chalets, 
bridges, church spires, and thickly clustered 
houses, told of villages, towns and cities; for man 
was now in possession, and all the world rejoiced. 
It was like an heiress receiving her fortune, for 
human beings thus to enter into the enjoyment 
of the lovely landscape and beautiful country, 
which the fairies had helped so grandly to create. 


IX 


THE FAIRY IN THE CUCKOO CLOCK 

A S a rule, and certainly with most fairies, 
mortals are considered to be very stupid. 
In fairyland, the reputation of human 
beings, as dull witted and slow, is a fixed tradi- 
tion. 

Before doing a new thing, men and women 
have to think it out. They talk a good deal 
about “cause and effect”; whereas, with fairies, 
there are no causes, but things, and events just 
happen. If they do not, the fairies make them. 

Some situations, like the sun and moon, the 
earth and sky, the summer and winter, cannot 
be changed. Yet fairies can bring to pass lots 
of wonders that surprise men. They can play 
tricks that puzzle them beyond measure. 

A hundred years ago, before the days of tour- 
ists, alpenstocks, hotels, electric railroads, and 
other foolish novelties, the guides, and all village 
folk, believed in the fairies. They felt as sure 
of giants and dwarfs, elves, and dragons, as folk 
of today, that never saw a dodo, or a pterodactyl, 
or an auroch, or a five-toed horse, believe these 
were once plentiful on the earth. 

91 


92 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


In fact, there was once a time, when men had 
no clocks or wrist-watches, and girls did not 
carry at their waist the pretty gold or nickel 
time-keepers of today. Nor did the big bells in 
the towers boom out the hours, nor were the 
huge clock-faces or dials seen, by day or by night. 
In the castles of Switzerland, where rich men 
or nobles lived, they knew nothing about mark- 
ing the hours and minutes by anything, with a 
round face, having figures on it. One way to 
announce the hours was to have a candle, with 
two little brass balls, on opposite sides of the 
wax, and tied together with a string. When the 
flame burned, say, an inch, or other measured 
space, the balls dropped down into a brass basin. 
This made a loud, ringing noise, which sounded 
out the hours. Or, a little hammer struck a bell, 
and that is the reason why a clock, as its name 
was at first, was called a klok, or bell. On ships, 
the bells sounded every hour, and half hour, and 
this is still the method, to which sailors are accus- 
tomed; “eight bells” marking the end of one of 
the three periods of four hours each, into which 
the day is divided. 

The fairies could always tell the time, as well 
as men, by the sun, but they were more inter- 
ested in the moon and stars, for night was their 
joy time. The common people had no word for a 
minute, or a second, or anything less than an 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


93 


hour. They knew when the sun rose and set, and 
they guessed the time of day from the place of 
the sun in the sky — at the east, as it rose in the 
morning, and during the afternoon, as it sank 
in the west. 

After the Alpen glow, or rosy light, that 
flushed the mountains like a maiden’s blush, the 
fairies came out to dance in the meadows. They 
always went away and disappeared at sunrise, 
for the dancing fairies would be turned into stone, 
if the sun’s rays struck them. It was even worse 
for them, than for mortals, who, even amid the 
ice and snow, when climbing high mountains, 
might be sunstruck and die. One family of the 
flowers they named Four o’Clocks. 

But by and bye, men learned that they could 
set two sticks in a line north and south, and the 
shadow line from one stick would touch the other. 
They called this time twelve o’clock, or noon. 
The old men also took notice that, in the long 
days of summer, the sun lengthened and, in cold 
winter, shortened its shadows. They were thus 
able to count the days before the flowers would 
bloom in the springtime. Then the yodel music 
would sound and the cows be driven to pasture 
up in the high mountains. 

From this noon shadow of the sun, men got 
the idea of the sundial. Placing a round disc, 
or plate, made of brass, or copper, on a stone or 


94 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


post, and setting on one side of it a metal pin, 
they noticed the sun’s shadow going round it in 
a circle. On the spaces, they marked the hours. 
Soon, it became the general fashion to have sun- 
dials in the gardens. 

Yet all the time the fairies laughed at mortals 
and declared that if they could live on the earth, 
during the sunshiny hours, they would be able 
to tell the time of day from the flowers and the 
sun’s place in the sky. So, just for the fun of it, 
whenever they noticed a new sundial, of brass, or 
stone, set up in a garden, they invariably held a 
ball, and danced around it all night. 

Once in a while, they went into a church when 
no one was there, and walked and sported around 
the hour glass in the pulpit. 

Of the arrant stupidity of some mortals, the 
fairies became finally and perfectly sure, when 
one night, they gathered together for a merry 
dance around a new sundial. This had been 
placed, only that day, in a garden owned by an 
old fellow, who was reputed, by his neighbors, 
to be a very wise man. The fairies were inter- 
rupted in their plan of playing ring-around-a- 
rosy, when their sentinel, set to watch, had seen 
a strange sight and called out a loud alarm. 

Now this funny old fellow had a name which, 
if translated, into English, would be Soft Pud- 
ding. He was a kind-hearted chap, that loved 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


9? 

the birds, and his pets, and children, but he was 
a most absent-minded codger. He never knew 
where his hat was, when he went outdoors, so his 
wife tied it, by a string, on to his button hole, 
as she did the little children’s mittens with a bit 
of tape, over their shounders. Yet he was a de- 
lightful daddy, and all the little folks loved him. 

Mr. Soft Pudding gladly paid the bill for his 
new toy, the sundial. He was so overjoyed at 
the idea of telling time by a shadow, that he 
talked about it for hours. Indeed, he was so ab- 
sorbed in it, that he forgot all about the sun, and 
the necessity of its shining, or that daylight was 
at all requisite for his enjoyment, in looking at 
the sundial. 

So, on one cool autumn night, old Soft Pud- 
ding put on his cloak, lighted his lantern, and 
walked out into the garden to see what time it 
might be! Fool that he was, he found that as 
he changed the position of the lantern, its rays 
every time cast a new shadow. Instead of its 
showing one time, it looked as if there were sev- 
eral times, marked by the pin; and, as if every- 
thing had gone wrong. Then, for the first time, 
the idea entered his head that sundials were for 
use, during the daytime only. 

“Who would have thought it?” he cried, as he 
tramped back into his house, hoping his wife 
would not know the object of his errand and 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


96 

laugh at him. But he did not tell her, and she 
thought he had gone out to look after the cows. 

But the fairies were irritated and in bad tem- 
per, because they had been driven away, by this 
intruder on their pleasures. They laughed at his 
stupidity, but their vexation was plain to be seen. 

“He might as well have had a wooden head, 
or one made of a squash. This only shows what 
fools these mortals be,” said one fairy to another. 

“Oh, don’t be angry, or sneer at him,” said an 
old fairy, who was a famous inventor. “Stupid 
though he is, he and his wife have always been 
kind to us fairies. Leave him to me. I’ll put 
another idea in his head. For the sake of his 
people, I’ll teach him to turn the dial upside 
down, turn its face outward, and put hands and 
fingers on its face, with wheels inside and weights 
below. Then, he can always have what he ex- 
pected, this evening, to do; and tell the time, at 
night, as well as by day. 

“And I’ll make the new contrivance sing. No 
longer shall a timekeeper be called a bell, to 
strike or sound the hours. I’ll put a bird inside, 
to fly out and call out the hours.” 

So the next night, the Queen of the Fairies 
took counsel of the owl, the wisest of all the birds, 
and also as fair-minded as a judge, who is just to 
all and the favorite of none. The owl decided 
that the cuckoo would serve best, and could be 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


97 


most depended upon always to come out, flap 
its wings, and chirp out the proper numbers of 
the hours. 

The Fairy Queen was surprised. “How can 
you, sir J udge, nominate a bird of bad character ? 
The cuckoo is a pirate. Does it not lay its eggs 
in the nests of other birds? How often, besides 
stealing their homes, it throws out the eggs of 
the rightful owners, and, because of this robbery, 
the birdies die.” 

“True, I have considered this,” said the owl, 
“but the cuckoo is a summer bird, that eats up 
the hairy caterpillars, which other birds will not 
touch. In this manner, it helps the trees to grow 
and the fruit to ripen, so that men have a clean 
country for the fairies to play in. Besides, in the 
courting season, you know it is the male bird’s 
love note, that sounds so sweetly, in April, May 
and June, and this song, ‘cuckoo, cuckoo,’ we all 
love to hear.” 

The Queen of the Fairies pondered this an- 
swer. She was impressed with the owl’s wisdom, 
and, besides, she wanted all the fairies to love 
each other. So she concluded to invite the male 
cuckoo bird to be her model, for the new clock, 
that was to make Switzerland wealthy and fa- 
mous. Surely, such clocks would be wanted, all 
over the world. 

The land being rich in walnut trees, there was 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


98 

no trouble in getting plenty of wood, dark and 
handsome, to be carved. So, appearing to old 
Soft Pudding, in a dream, the fairy queen said 
to him. 

“Although we fairies all had a good laugh at 
you, when we saw you coming «out of your house 
at night, with a lantern, to tell the time at the 
sundial, thus breaking up our party, yet be- 
cause you have always been so kind to the birds, 
and loved our fairy folks, and the children, I will 
show you how to make a new kind of clock. It 
will not only mark the hours on its face, without 
the aid of the sun, but will send out a cuckoo, 
every hour, to flap its wings in delight. Then 
this wooden bird will call out ‘cuckoo, cuckoo,’ 
as if a real one in feathers were making love to 
its mate. Do you not, yourself, think that the 
affection of the lover bird, thus shown, will in- 
crease mutual affection in your own house and 
brighten every Swiss home, and many more 
homes, beyond the sea?” 

“I am sure it will. Thank you heartily,” said 
Soft Pudding. 

Then the Fairy Queen held out before his gaze 
a lovely cuckoo clock, made of black walnut, with 
hands and face-figures cut out of the wood of 
the white birch tree. 

When he woke up in the morning, out of his 
sleep, old Soft Pudding stretched out his hands 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


99 


to receive the gift, but it was daylight, and, of 
course, the fairy was gone. It was the common 
light of the sun, but he was very happy, even 
though he had only dreamed. He proceeded at 
once to turn his dream into reality, by construct- 
ing the clock. 

Within a week, he had made the works. 
Then, he set them inside a black w r alnut case, 
with ivory figures on the dial. After several at- 
tempts, he succeeded with the wooden cuckoo, 
that would come out, flap its wings, and chirp the 
number of the hours, and go inside the shut doors, 
while the clock face also marked the proper point. 

Then, he brought his whole family, one morn- 
ing, near the moment when the minute hand was 
approaching the proper dot on the disc. 

What was their surprise, when, without any 
one touching the little black house, which was 
set on the wall, the doors flew open, and out 
strutted a cuckoo, flapping its wings. It chirped 
out, ten times, and then bowed, went into its box 
again, and the little doors shut. 

The children all clapped their hands and the 
mother embraced her husband in joy. By and 
bye, for ivory, which was very costly, Mr. Soft 
Pudding used white birch for the clock hands. 

Then he set up a factory, and this gave work 
to many villagers, men and women, boys and 
girls. He soon made a fortune, and now, no one 


100 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


called him Soft Pudding, but every one saluted 
him with a title of respect. 

When he died, he left his wealth to his fam- 
ily. To this day, his cuckoos flap their wings, 
and salute the hours, in every land. Because the 
wooden clock and bird were black, the time-tell- 
ing cuckoo, which was sometimes hitched to a 
barometer, or set in a toy, to foretell the weather, 
was called the “rain-crow.” But, with this be- 
ginning, made by the cuckoo clock, Switzerland 
became a land of clocks, watches, and musical 
boxes. 


X 


THE CASTLE OF THE HAWK 

T HE hawk is one of the children of Asia, 
the Mother Continent, in which almost 
all the fairy tales were first told. From 
the beginning, this sharp-eyed bird of prey has 
had the reputation of being very cruel, and of 
eating up the little birds. It has a curved beak, 
terribly sharp talons, and very large and strong 
wings. The young fowls in the barnyard are 
afraid, even of the haw'k’s shadow, and they 
quickly run to cover. For the hawk, sometimes 
called a falcon, can fly up very high and then 
swoop down on the small, or tame birds, kill them 
at once and carry them off. Little chickens, to 
be safe, had better run at once under the wings 
of their mother. Sometimes, the old hen faces 
the falcon so bravely, that she can save her brood 
and fight hard, until a man comes with a gun 
and drives off this pirate of the air. In Switzer- 
land, they call the big hawk the Mountain Con- 
dor, or the Robber Bird. It seizes many a lamb, 
kid, or puppy, and its nest is, most of the time, 
built in the midst of bones. 


I OI 


102 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


In the Far East, before rifles were invented, 
falcons were kept, fed, trained, and taught to 
hunt such birds as the crane, pigeons, ducks, 
geese and barnyard fowls, and the many little 
feathered fellows, that live in the woods and 
swamps. Men would go in among the rushes 
and the bushes, and drive out, from the covert, 
both the smaller and larger birds. Out in the 
fields, or on the hills, the falconer would be in 
waiting to let his trained birds fly at them, with 
beak and talons. 

One man carried around his waist a wide hoop, 
kept a foot or so out from his body, and held by 
a strap from his shoulders. On this hoop, were 
a half dozen or so trained falcons, with their eyes 
covered by little caps or hoods held down over 
their heads. As soon as a bird was seen, the 
hunter would take off the hood and let one of 
the trained falcons free. 

Flying straight up, high in the air, and swiftly 
descending, swooping down and striking the bird 
in the neck, with its sharp beak, the falcons 
brought down the game to their masters, until 
the hunting bags were full. Women, as well as 
men, loved this sport, and it was a gay sight, 
when a cavalcade of ladies and gentlemen, as 
they issued from the castle, and all on horseback, 
went out for a hunt, while the gamekeepers with 
the falcons and bush-beaters, with the dogs, fol- 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


103 


lowed. The men on foot carried a spear, in case 
they should meet a bear, or wild boar. On their 
return, the hunting party would have a feast in 
the castle. 

Now it was the belief, in Asia, that a good 
person, after his death, was born again in another 
world, and became a still holier being or even an 
angel. But a bad person, after his death, if he 
had been a tale-bearer or deceitful, or told lies, 
would be changed into a snake. If he had been 
stupid, he might become a sheep or donkey, or a 
mule. Or, if he or she had been too proud, each 
was reborn as a peacock; if cruel, into a tiger or 
a hawk. 

There were many girls in Japan, named Taka, 
which means a hawk, because of their bad tem- 
per, or their cruelty to puppies or kittens. Some- 
times, however, the name was a compliment, be- 
cause they were quick and smart, like falcons. 

Now, according to these ideas, there was a very 
hard-hearted man, named Chicksha, who beat his 
children. When angry, he threw dishes at his 
wife and cursed his servants. One day, when in 
a fit of bad temper, he fell dead. No one was 
sorry, and some were even glad. 

After this event, whenever people saw a fal- 
con, with terrible shining eyes, and beak as sharp 
as two razors, and with claws and talons, like a 
steel meat hook, they said, “It must be Chicksha, 


104 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

come to life again.” Then they all ran out of 
their houses to see a thing so wonderful. 

After they had become used to the sight, they 
noticed, one day, that the terrible creature had 
unfolded its wings, spread them out wide, and 
flown westward. After awhile, this falcon had 
soared so high and so far, that, in the distance, 
it became nothing more than a speck on the blue 
horizon. Then it disappeared behind the moun- 
tains. At this, everybody clapped their hands 
with delight. In fact, some of the more pious 
went to the village shrine and gave thanks to 
Great Buddha, for ridding the neighborhood of 
such a pest. 

On wings, which seemed to be tireless, this 
bird of evil flew on and on, farther and farther 
away, until in a strange land, it perched, tired 
and hungry, on a very high rock, beneath which 
was a lordly castle. 

In this stronghold lived a count and countess, 
in whose castle-yard was a skillful gamekeeper, 
whose ring of falcons was the most noted in all 
the land. Flying down among the falcons, the 
soul of Chicksha, now a hunting bird, at once 
felt at home among these winged creatures, that 
fed on the blood of their fellows. 

When taken out on hawking expeditions, few, 
even of the strongest falcons, equaled, and none 
excelled, Chicksha, in striking down, what the 



























































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SWISS FAIRY TALES 


105 

good Saint Francis called, “our little brothers of 
the air.” So Chicksha became the favorite of his 
owner, the Count. 

But one day, tired of being hooded and kept 
inactive in the cages, in the castle yard, or, when 
taken out on the hoop and often, when hooded, 
kept from having the chance to kill and cause 
suffering, Chicksha, the falcon, leaped up from 
its keeper, when its cap dropped off, and flew 
away. Proud of its freedom, the bird never 
stopped, until it perched upon a mountain named 
the Wiilpelsberg, in Switzerland. 

On this lofty pinnacle, far above the river tor- 
rent, in the Aare valley, there stands today a 
lonely ruin, which is all that is left of what was 
once a spacious and magnificent castle. 

Meanwhile, the Count, who was loath to lose 
his best bird, went off to hunt for his lost favor- 
ite. Hoping, at every climb, to find his prize, 
he went up higher and higher into the forest. 
Emerging from the woods, he caught sight of 
the hawk resting on the jagged rock. Approach- 
ing stealthily, he put out his hand, captured the 
bird and quickly slipped the hood on its head. 

On turning his eyes, to survey the scene, the 
count had before him a splendid view of the 
grandest scenery upon which he had ever looked. 
It was the valley of the Aare, with its wonderful 
glacier and ice-cold river, and its romantic wild 


106 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

and rocky gorge, where now are villages and 
hotels, while its healing sulphur baths are among 
the most famous in Switzerland. 

The nobleman at once felt that here was the 
spot on which to build his castle. Returning 
home, he summoned an architect, made his plans, 
and set about the enterprise. When he had fin- 
ished it, he named the lordly structure, Haps- 
burg; which means the Castle of the Hawk. 
Here, one of the most renowned princely fam- 
ilies of rulers, including kings and emperors, that 
wore crowns on their heads, was founded. They 
took for their emblem a double-headed bird of 
prey, as if they would seize double the amount 
of land, and oppress twice the number of people, 
commonly ruled over by monarchs. It is aston- 
ishing how rulers, in the past, have chosen birds 
and beasts of prey as symbols of their govern- 
ment — all so different from the Good Shepherd. 

In course of the centuries, this house of Hawk 
Castle gained a greater amount of power and 
spread their sceptre over more countries than any 
other Yet this was done, more by marrying 
their daughters, princesses, to kings and princes, 
than by victories in war. So this dynasty of 
rulers became famous for its matchmaking, in 
which the mothers and aunts had much to say. 

Now, when the time came, that the young 
prince of the Hawk Castle House must seek a 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


107 


bride, he went into the country now called Bel- 
gium, and sought in marriage the hand of a love- 
ly princess, named Eleanor. Then, the usual 
medieval custom was followed, in regard to royal 
ladies who left their own land to marry the prince 
of another country, and to live among strangers. 

In this case, also, the Prince having been sum- 
moned to Rome, on business that could not be 
put off, had first to be married by proxy ; that is, 
one of his officers must make the journey to Bel- 
gium and take his place at the ceremony. 

For, while she, the promised bride, was per- 
haps the most beautiful of the princely daugh- 
ters in all Europe, as she certainly was the rich- 
est heiress, he, the betrothed groom, was one of 
the poorest of titled rulers. There were beggar 
princes, then, as well as wealthy ones, and the 
needy bridegroom wanted to use some of the 
money of her dowry at once, for he was hard 
pressed to pay his debts. So he sent one of his 
high officers into Belgium. 

The ceremony was one of great magnificence, 
like a pageant. It was held in the largest hall 
of the palace, which was brightly lighted by hun- 
dreds of candles and the walls were hung with 
tapestry in brilliant colors. A train of brides- 
maids brought in the princess, arrayed in her 
fairest robes, and decked with jewels. 

Then the prince’s officer, who, in his splendid 


io8 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


garments, was in uniform, with decorations for 
the occasion, like his master, and looked like 
him, came in the hall. He had on his head a 
crown, and at his side a sword, spurs on his boots, 
and jewels on his breast. He took his place on 
the right, for the bride must always be near the 
husband’s heart. In each corner of the room, 
was a sentinel in armor, and with his sword 
drawn. Then a notary appeared. He was in his 
scarlet robes of office, with the legal documents 
in his hand to secure the signatures. The wit- 
nesses were ranged around the hall and the nup- 
tial service was read. The wedding was made 
legal by the loyal officer making answer for his 
august master, and the notary writing a record, 
attested by witnesses. 

The next day, attended by her ladies in wait- 
ing, her maids, cooks and serving women, the 
princess travelled in state to the frontier at the 
Rhine. In a great house, standing on the bound- 
ary line, half in Belgium and half in France, 
the preparations were made, by which the prince- 
ly daughter ceased forever to be a Belgian 
maiden. After this ceremony of disrobing, she 
was ever afterwards to be an Austrian wife, for 
this was the time, when the Hapsburgs ruled 
over Switzerland in which epoch also the story 
is told of Gessler and William Tell. 

In one room, she left behind her all the ward- 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 109 

robe and whatever was Belgian. She then 
stepped into the next room, which was all Aus- 
trian in its furniture and treasures. It was full 
of dainty clothes, fluffy and gauzy for summer 
wear, the time of flowers; but there was also 
more, in plenty, of garments that were fur-lined, 
for winter warmth. With garments for wear 
next to the skin, that were white as an edelweiss, 
and thicker wraps for her body, that were crim- 
son and purple, like the Alpine rose, she was 
met by the Swiss chaperone and the maidens 
awaiting her, who completed her costume. Then 
she stood forth as a bride, ready for the other 
ceremony of wedding, which took place in the 
cathedral, where, with bell and book, in the holy 
bonds of matrimony, they were to be joined by 
the bishop. There, the prince met his lovely 
princess and the two were married, and they and 
their children lived happily ever afterwards. 


XI 


THE YODEL CARILLON OF THE 
COWS 

T HEY say that the soul of Belgium is the 
carillon. In many a tower, far up in the 
air hang a hundred bells or more, of all 
sizes. These are struck by hammers, which are 
worked by the carillonier, who presses the key- 
board, as if playing the piano. Very famous are 
these chime-masters, and sweet is the music, 
which sounds in the air. When away from home, 
in a foreign land, the Belgian gets homesick, 
amid strangers, and is often down-hearted, be- 
cause of the silences of the strange country. 
Should he hear the sweet chimes of a city church, 
a vision of the home land, with its quaint houses 
and high towers, its carrier pigeons, and river- 
dykes, and flower markets, and happy children, 
playing in the streets, rises before him. Then 
he thinks of the years of his childhood, in his old 
home. 

In Switzerland, it is not the tower bells, or 
even the church-spires, sounding out the tollings 
for a funeral, or the merry peals of wedding bells, 


IIO 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


m 


or the strokes calling to worship, that so deeply 
stir the mountain man’s heart, as do the yodel 
music and the carillon of the cows. 

On summer days, let one stand in the high 
pastures above the valleys, or on a mountain 
slope, and he will hear the tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, 
of bells, bells, bells. They sound and echo from 
near and far. They float on the air, from un- 
seen nooks in the distance. 

Even the cattle enjoy the music of the bells. 
Just as soon as the shepherds sound the Alpine 
horn, or start the call, for the herds to come 
home, every goat moves forward and cows leave 
their grazing on the grass, or they rise from chew- 
ing the cud. Then one may see the long lines of 
the milk-givers marching towards the chalets. 
There the men, at night, and in the morning, 
milk the cows. When the animals are housed for 
the night, they start the fires. They put in the 
rennet, that curdles the cream and turns the 
white and golden liquid into cheeses, so solid that 
one can roll them down the hills. 

Everyone in America knows about the deli- 
cious white Schweitzer cheese. When cut open, 
it is seen to be full of holes, as if well ventilated, 
or, in many places, bored with an augur. 

So well do the cows like to wear the leather 
collar, or neck strap, and hear the tinkle of the 
bells, that sometimes they die of homesickness, 


1 12 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


when these are taken away, or they lose their 
sounding collar; or, when among their sisters, 
thus decorated, they have none. 

In old days, wdien it w r as the fashion for young 
men to be soldiers of fortune and enlist in the 
armies of France, or Germany, or Italy, or Hol- 
land, a Swiss man could forget, even his country, 
unless he had a sweetheart at home. 

But when any one would start the yodel song, 
it made him and his comrades so homesick, that 
they wanted to leave at once, for their native 
land. So many soldiers were found to desert, on 
this account, that the generals forbade any one 
ever to sing the yodel songs, or play the yodel 
music, such as Queen Anne introduced into Eng- 
land. The “Ranz des Vaches,” or Song of the 
Cows, is more truly Switzerland’s national music, 
than is even the carillon of Belgium for the Bel- 
gians, or even that of the Swiss song, “Stand 
Fast, O Fatherland.” 

In this country, where the music box was in- 
vented, the yodel is centuries old. It is almost 
like telling a fairy tale, to narrate the story of 
the cow parade in June, as it assembles and moves 
up to the high pastures, called “the Alps,” which 
are spangled with flowers of gorgeous colors. 
From June to October, these highland meadows 
are rich in the sweet aromatic herbs, which the 
cows so enjoy, especially the plant called the 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


113 

Alpine Poa. Almost as wonderful, is the cow 
parade, on its return downwards, in October. 

During the long winter, every boy in the vil- 
lages looks forward to the time, counting the 
last few days on his fingers, when he can go, 
with his father and hired men, and along with 
the dogs and donkeys, to spend the summer in 
outdoor life in the highlands. Then, he can be 
like a virtuous Indian, or a moral pirate, or an 
antique shepherd; and, indeed, the frisky goats, 
though all named and numbered, will give him 
plenty to do. He waits patiently, during the 
long house life of the cold time, w T hen, walled in 
by the winter snow, he thinks of the long, bright 
summer days that are coming. Then, he can 
live nearer the sky, and until the sun begins again 
to set earlier and the snows drive men and cattle 
home. 

The wonderful fact, in the cow T parade, that 
reminds one of a fairy tale, is the way these 
horned creatures organize, of their own accord, 
and drill. They fall into line and march, as if 
they were playing soldiers, or were a company of 
real warriors, or cavalry horses, going to war. 
Each milker knows her place, and, if any young 
heifers try to be fresh, and show off too much, 
they get a hint from the horns of the old ladies 
of the herd, that they had better know and keep 
their place. Such snubs and punishments are 


ii4 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


not forgotten. After such discipline, a young 
snip of a cow behaves better, until grown up. 
Then, with more sense, she takes and holds her 
place, in good bovine society. 

The herds, when bound for the Alps, number 
from twenty to two hundred. Three magnificent 
cows, brindle, dun, or white, lead the procession 
and they feel their honors, as fully as a lieuten- 
ant, just fresh from West Point, feels his. On 
the neck of each, is a wide leather strap, often 
decorated with metal bosses, or knobs, to which 
is hung a bell, often as big as a bucket. Most 
proudly, with heads up in the air, the leaders 
step forward. The other cows, all having names, 
follow, each with a smaller strap and bell on her 
neck. Here are a few of the names, expressed 
in English: Star, Crow, White Stocking, 
Youngster, Mirror, White Horn, and Lady. 

The boy who is on his first venture up with the 
herd, dressed in his best clothes, leads the flock 
of goats, which are put under his special charge. 
Each one has a name and he knows them all. 
They will give him plenty to do, for they are 
great tramps and vagrants. Nobody knows how 
a goat will behave. We get our word “caprice,” 
and “capricious,” from his Latin name. 

Back of the columns, is the big sow, with her 
litter of little pigs, all of them. They are glad 
enough to go, and they look on the whole thing 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


115 

as a picnic. For now, instead of living on dry 
winter feed, they will get the juicy grass and 
herbage of the summer pasture. Mrs. Hog is 
certainly proud of her young porkers, but her 
music is hardly up to the carillon standard, for it 
consists chiefly of grunts, and this is the only 
language, in which the education of the piggies 
is carried on. 

Feeling quite as important as any, and always 
wanting to hurry along, and go ahead faster, is 
the dog Tiger. This pet of the family and the 
terror of the goats, that give him a butt, when 
he gets too lively, looks more like a mastiff, than 
a collie, or one of his cousins, the stately St. 
Bernard dogs. 

Finally, as the rear guard, is the daddy of the 
family. He leads the horse, on which are packed 
and strapped the cheese caldron, for boiling the 
milk and cream. From his position, Daddy can 
round up the unruly members of the herd, cows, 
goats, or pigs, that have too much genius, or 
temperament, or are too original, or independent, 
to obey rules. Just as often, in a marching army, 
the rear guard is the place of honor, so the last 
cow, usually a superb animal, carries the milking 
stool between her horns. 

The cows’ parade marks a heyday for the 
whole village. The girls are all out, and in their 
best dresses. Most of them will not see their 


n6 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

brothers, their beaux, or their lovers, until au- 
tumn. So they make the most of the fun for a 
day. 

During the summer, and until October, there 
are few of the male sex, except old men and small 
boys, left in the mountain or dairy villages. 
Many are the farewells and handwavings, until 
the procession disappears around the curve of the 
mountains. Then the yodel music, the Ranz des 
Vaches, the Song of the Swiss, for centuries, is 
raised and echoed among the hills. The words 
are, in most cases, very old, and in a sort of 
French, that is never heard in Paris, or at the 
universities. The notes are very much as their 
Swiss ancestors sung them, before America was 
discovered. The words are, in many of the 
songs, quite witty. In one form or another, they 
are in praise of the work and craft of the cattle, 
or dairy men. 

The yodel music will never die. The herds 
may change in breed, form, or numbers, but never 
the song. When heard near at hand, there is too 
much jingle, with many discords; but distance 
lends enchantment to the sound. When far 
away, all notes melt into sweetness and accord. 

Once up in the regions near the sky, while the 
echoes, coming back from the peaks, make an- 
gelic sweetness, and heavenly harmony, the 
Swiss boy has a fine time in both work and play. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


117 


At no other season are the meadows more beau- 
tiful. He soon finds out, however, the differ- 
ence between cows and goats. The larger ani- 
mals stay on the levels, obey the rules, and are 
faithful, punctual, and well drilled. They al- 
ways move homewards when the horn calls, or 
the yodel music sounds. On the contrary, the 
goats are often obstinate, and act as if imps and 
elves were in them. Then, too, they love to 
climb and wander. It is, with them, a game of 
Johnnie Jump Up, pretty much all the time. 
They leap and scramble out of the meadows, 
and up over the rocks, climbing thousands of 
feet towards the mountain tops, and into the 
most difficult places, as if they loved to play hide 
and seek and plague the shepherds. This gives 
the boy plenty to do in hunting them, for it is 
hard to hear their bells tinkling, when the wind 
blows roughly, or in the wrong direction. 

In autumn, when Jack Frost returns, and 
storms are many and frequent, and the snows 
heavy, the march back and down is made in good 
order. Then, all the village folk turn out again, 
to welcome the shepherds. As the men, cows, 
goats, pigs and horses return, the latter are well 
loaded with cheeses. These will be sold and sent 
to the cities in foreign countries, and especially 
across the sea to America. 


XII 


THE TAILOR AND THE GIANT 


LL giants behave in about the same way, 



in every country ; so each one of the big- 


boned fellows in Switzerland was like 
his relations in other lands. He had two legs, 
each as thick as a telegraph pole, arms like crow- 
bars, and a body that made one think of a hogs- 
head. His bone box, called a skull, had only a 
spoonful or two of brains inside of it, for his 
head was no bigger than a cocoanut. Usually he 
went about roaring like a bull, and carried a club 
in his right hand, as long and thick as a young 
fir tree. Although he was as strong as an ox, he 
could hardly run as fast as an elephant, and any 
smart dog could move around more quickly than 
he. That is the reason why a nimble princess, 
with a needle, could outwit him, or any clever 
young fellow could trap him in a pit, and then 
crack his skull with a pickaxe. 

The monstrous fellow had a stomach equal to 
that of a rhinoceros. At one meal, he could chew 
up a sirloin of beef, eat a half bushel of rice, and 
gulp down a firkin of milk. With his club, he 


118 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


119 


could smash a hay wagon ; but, besides eating and 
bullying, he was not good for much. In fact, 
when it came to a game of hard thinking, and 
using his two spoonfuls of brains, any clever boy 
or girl twelve years’ old could beat him. Some 
giants, of course, were more intelligent than 
others, but as a rule, a giant got very soon and 
very much tired out, when he had to use his mind. 

They do say that the reason why giants are so 
stupid is because that, when they were quite little 
babies, their skull bones closed tight, too soon; 
so that their brains never grew any larger, while 
the bone became thicker and thicker. That is 
the reason why some people usually called the 
big lout, “Mr. Bone Head, with the big club.” 

There were other people, however, who be- 
lieved that the heads of the giants were made of 
wood, and some always thought of the big clumsy 
fellows as belonging to the tribe of Wooden 
Heads. 

One exception, to the general run of Swiss 
giants, was a bulky fellow named Kisher, who 
served the great Charlemagne, when this mighty 
general was fighting the savages, called Huns 
and Avars. This giant could wade all rivers, no 
matter how deep. If his horse, which was bigger 
than a hippopotamus, was afraid to step in, and 
cross over, Kisher would grab hold of his tail and 
pull him backwards, through the deep water and 


120 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


over to the other shore. When fighting with his 
long sword, in front of Charlemagne’s army, one 
would think, from the way he cut down the en- 
emy, and left their corpses in swathes, that he 
was a sort of mowing machine. 

After the battle, Kisher poked his spear into 
eight or ten of the carcasses of the defunct sav- 
ages. Then, stringing them on his spear shaft, 
like a pile of pretzels, he threw the load over his 
shoulders. Trudging to his general’s tent, he 
shook off the dead savages on the ground, as 
though he was dropping sausages from a fork. 

Thereupon, his general rewarded him by nam- 
ing him Einheer, which means that the giant was 
a whole army in himself. He also ordered that 
the big fellow should have all the sausages, and 
barley cakes, and dried apples, that he wanted. 

In fact, it was necessary to have plenty of eat- 
ables ready for the giant, for fear lest, when very 
hungry, he might swallow the dishes, chew up the 
napkins, eat up the table cloth, and gulp down 
the table, legs and all. So terrible was his appe- 
tite, that the mothers, when they saw Einheer 
coming down the hill, or up the street, called all 
their children inside the house, for fear lest a 
pretty plump girl, or a nice fat boy, should be 
seized, to fill up the mammoth cave that he kept 
under his belt. 

When no food was at hand, and the giant had 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


121 


to do without his dinner, he set up a roar, like a 
lion, until people thought it was distant thunder 
echoing among the far off mountains. Then old 
Kisher — for the people often forgot his new title 
— used to pull his belt tighter. He would even 
let the buckle tongue go into two or three holes 
further back, in the strap. This took off the edge 
of his appetite for a while, but only for a few 
hours. Then he began to roar once more. Again 
the mothers clasped their babies in their arms and 
locked the doors, for fear he might get in and eat 
them out of house and home. The farmers took 
the harness off the horses, so that even if he broke 
into the stables, he would help himself only to 
the animals, and not devour also the traces and 
horse collars. But after all this, the giant never 
knew enough to pick a lock, or get into barns, 
when the doors were properly barred. Even a 
trained monkey could beat him at this sort of 
smartness. 

Now there was a young tailor, who was tired 
of this giant’s boasting. Although the people 
often laughed at this man of shears and measur- 
ing tape, and called him “one-ninth,” and the 
boys at times shouted “Cabbage” at him, he was 
really a brave fellow. Besides being an expert 
with needle and thread, he was really as clever as 
any one in town. Indeed, he thought himself, in 
this respect, equal, even to the judges, in the 


122 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


court, who put big wigs on their heads, to look 
as if theirs contained more brains than common 
people have. He read stories of famous heroes 
and dragon slayers and wanted to be like them 
and even excel. He boasted that, with a bag and 
a pair of scissors, he could get the better of any 
giant living. But when he declared he would 
some day show them the giant’s carcass, they 
laughed and said, “ That’s only a tailor’s prom- 
ise.” Yet he always retorted, “ You’ll see.” 

At any rate, the tailor made up his mind that 
cunning could accomplish as much as force. So 
he studied the habits and tastes of giants, to see 
what they liked best to eat. He soon found that 
this monster in human shape was very fond of 
rice pudding, with plenty of sauce and sugar on 
it. But the tailor never said a word to the giant 
about knowing this special weakness of his. 

One day, while walking on the road to the next 
town, to take home a suit of clothes to a cus- 
tomer, he suddenly came upon the giant, who at 
this time was, as usual, very hungry. They both 
glared at each other, but the giant, speaking 
first, roared out: 

“Here, you fraction of a fellow, come now let 
us have a trial of strength. I’ll hang you on a 
tree, if I beat you, and you can skin me alive, if 
you win. 

At first, the little tailor was so frightened that 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


123 

his knees knocked together, and his hat fell off; 
but, quickly feeling brave again, he answered : 

“All right, I’m not afraid of you. Come on, 
we’ll try.” 

The tailor knew that a brainy fellow, with a 
clear head and a sharp tongue, was more than a 
match for the big bonehead, any day. So, when 
the giant picked up a boulder, weighing a ton or 
so, and threw it into the lake, and then dared the 
man to do likewise, the tailor answered: 

“Bah! that’s nothing. Why don’t you give me 
something that’s hard to do? I can pick up the 
hardest pebble and squeeze water out of it with 
my hands. I’ll wager a gold coin you can’t do 
it.” 

Thus dared, the giant picked up a bit of hard 
rock and nearly broke his finger bones trying to 
crush it, or make it yield water. Mad as fire, he 
called the tailor a rascal, and said he told fibs. 
Then he dared him to try his hand at it. He got 
his club ready to smash the man into a jelly, if 
he failed. 

Now the tailor, not expecting to get home until 
night, had brought a fresh cheese ball and some 
crackers, to eat on the way. He turned his back 
to the giant and bent over, pretending to pick up 
a hard round stone from the ground. Then he 
pressed this cheese between his two hands so hard, 
that a drop or two, of what looked like water. 


124 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


came out. As the moisture glistened in the sun, 
the astonished giant dropped his club. Then, 
rushing up to the tailor, he grasped his hand and 
cried out: 

“Comrade and brother you are. Don’t skin 
me. Come along with me; we’ll skin other peo- 
ple, and I’ll make you rich and famous.” 

The tailor, pretending to be as merciful, as he 
thought himself brave, and being very ambitious, 
walked along with the giant, until they came to a 
castle. The tailor wanted to get rich quick and 
marry a princess, or at least an heiress. 

Strange to say, they found everybody inside 
the castle shedding tears, so that there were bare- 
ly handkerchiefs enough to go round. Even the 
sentinel at the castle gate was weeping and had 
already used up four. Secretly, the tailor wished 
he had brought along his whole stock of linen, 
for here he might have driven a good bargain, 
and made large sales at a high profit. But he 
told no one his thoughts. 

In one breath, both the tailor and the giant 
asked, “What’s the matter?” 

Then the man-at-arms told them the trouble. 
A dragon, living up in the mountains, in a cave 
had been roaring all night for food. The citizens 
wanted to feed the criminals, then in prison, to 
the monster, but he refused such common nour- 
ishment. In fact, he was the most particular 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


125 


dragon, as to his diet, that ever came to Switzer- 
land. He required one maiden a day to appease 
his hunger. He never would be satisfied with 
boys, or men, or even with ladies, that were either 
slender or bony. 

Now the supply of plump and beautiful girls 
had actually run so low, that the new victims had 
to draw lots. This very day, the lot had fallen on 
the King’s only daughter, and at sunrise the next 
day, she was to be swallowed up. 

As soon as the news had spread abroad in the 
city, after sunrise, the stock on hand, in all the 
shops that kept mourning goods, or black silk, 
or muslin, or grief-bordered handkerchiefs, was 
sold out before noon, and there was not time 
enough to import a fresh supply of crepe from 
Paris. So everybody was sighing and groaning, 
and the sounds were appalling. Some were shed- 
ding tears copiously, for real grief; but others, 
because their old mourning garments were out of 
fashion. With others, it was a case of economy, 
rather than grief, for black goods saved their 
best clothes. 

But the tailor, though feeling sad at first, saw 
a chance of coining wealth and getting into so- 
ciety, for he had quickly learned that the king 
had offered his daughter, in marriage, to any one 
who would fight and kill the dragon, besides 


126 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

making a gift outright, of a thousand pounds of 
gold. 

So when the pair of heroes, the tailor and giant, 
proffered their services, the monarch gave the 
monstrous fellow an iron bar, as big as the rail 
for a locomotive to run on. 

But when the king saw that the little tailor 
had only a pair of scissors, he laughed, until he 
forgot his grief. Then he offered the little man 
a battle axe. It was as sharp as a razor, and 
heavy enough to chop open a knight clothed in 
steel. Thus armed, the two were all ready to set 
out together to the dragon’s cave. 

Pretending that one of his shoe laces had 
broken and he needed to tie it up, the tailor told 
the giant to go on, and carry both axe and iron 
club, and he would catch up with him. When 
the two were together, the giant was about to 
hand his companion the battle axe, when the 
tailor began at once to talk about rice pudding. 
He smilingly asked the giant whether he liked 
raisins in it, and would take it with grated nut- 
meg, sprinkled over the top ; or, would he have it 
plain? 

The subject was so interesting to the giant, 
that his eyes sparkled at once. He forgot that 
he was carrying both of the two heavy things, 
axe and bar. He never dropped them, until they 
reached the dragon’s lair. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


127 


But, while they were arguing which should go 
in first, the dragon rushed out and swallowed the 
little tailor at a gulp, without chewing him up. 

The giant noticed that not a bit of butter, nor 
drop of gravy, was necessary, for the tailor had 
slid down, and disappeared, in a jiffy. There- 
upon, the giant gave the monster a mighty wal- 
lop upon the head, with the iron bar. It was so 
terrific, that he fell dead and stiffened out, ten 
yards long. The giant waited to be sure he was 
defunct. Then, opening the monster’s wide 
mouth, he thrust his big fist down the dragon’s 
throat, pulled up the little tailor, and stood him 
on his feet. 

The tailor was out of breath, for a moment; 
but, quickly regaining both his wind and his wits, 
he took off his cap and began to rub his head. 

“What’s the matter?” asked the giant. “Don’t 
you feel all right?” 

“Why, no ! You nearly dented my skull, when 
you struck the dragon with your club. Why are 
you not more skillful? I can handle such mon- 
sters better than you. Can’t you see that I just 
leaped into the dragon’s mouth, in order to cut 
his throat, with my scissors? With this, he flour- 
ished his shears, which were all bloody. 

The stupid giant was dumbfounded, but he 
did not know enough to contradict the tailor, who 
told the big fellow to shoulder the dragon, and 


128 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


they would both go back to the king’s court, and 
demand the promised reward. So, with much 
pulling and hauling, lifting and dragging, the 
giant did all the work. The clumsy carcass was 
laid before the royal throne. The princess, look- 
ing on, wondered which one of the two heroes 
was to be her husband. 

She did not feel, just then, like marrying 
either of them, big or little. When, however, 
she thought it over, she believed she could live on 
her income better with the tailor, than with the 
giant, who was already beginning to ask when 
dinner would be ready. 

As for the king, he could not decide which was 
the hero, for both laid claims to the princess and 
to the gold. So, for the time being, the giant 
was fed all the beans, and pork, and barley, and 
turnips, he could eat; but, even then, the tailor 
saw that the big fellow was not satisfied, and 
would rather have rice pudding. 

The king and his wise men kept on debating 
for several days, for neither would give in. Then 
they became alarmed, when the steward whis- 
pered, in the royal ear, that provisions were run- 
ning low. In fact, both the larder and the cellar 
were nearly empty. This was on account of the 
giant’s enormous appetite. By the following 
Sunday, nothing would be left except an extra 
hogshead of rice. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


129 


The tailor overheard the steward’s talk, and at 
once he proposed a plan, by which the contest 
between the two claimants could be settled. Let 
that hogshead of rice be made into one enormous 
pudding. It must be well sweetened, and with 
plenty of raisins and powdered nutmeg on top, 
and then divided into two parts, or piles. Which- 
ever ate up his portion, most quickly, should be 
hailed as the hero, marry the princess, get the 
money, and be publicly announced, by the trum- 
peters, as the royal son-in-law and successor to 
the throne. 

“Now I’ll keep my promise,” said the tailor to 
himself, “as to what I could do, with only a pair 
of scissors and a bag.” 

So, when the boiled rice, smoking hot, was 
piled on trenchers, and served on a long table, 
with a small shovel beside each large wooden 
plate, the trial began. The giant went at his 
mess, as if he were himself a dragon. To his 
astonishment, however, the tailor made the rice 
pudding disappear as fast as he himself could. 
Even after unbuckling his belt, and letting out, 
first, two, and then four holes, in the leather, the 
tailor kept on. 

Finally the giant had to stop. He rolled over 
on the floor and cried out : 

“I’m beaten. Give the tailor the princess and 
the money; but don’t let him skin me alive.” 


130 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


All the while, the tailor, who had a pal, under 
the table, to hand him bag after bag, as he 
dropped into them the shovelfuls of rice pud- 
ding. He filled, first, one big bag, strapped to 
his bosom, and when that was full, he put on 
another. The giant was so occupied with gorg- 
ing himself, that he did not notice anything, but 
the rice before him. 

Meanwhile the man, whom the tailor had paid 
to do it, kept on handing fresh bags to the tailor. 
When all of these, except several, towards the 
last, were used up, he took the tailor’s scissors 
and cut open the bags at the bottom of the pile, 
for fear the supply of bags might run out. 
Meanwhile, he filled a tub near by. So the castle 
people were saved from starvation, but they all, 
from king to scullion, had only cold rice to eat 
the next day. 

When the tailor explained, to the giant, that 
he had an extra stomach, and cut open the first 
one, after enjoying the taste of the rice pudding, 
and then filled the second one, the giant, fool- 
ishly hoping still to eat more, and thinking it 
was the proper thing to do, cut open his big 
stomach with a sword. But that was too much 
even for a giant. 

So on Monday, the next day, the giant’s fu- 
neral took place, and on Tuesday, the day after, 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


131 

the tailor married the princess, and they lived 
happily ever after. He had several sons and 
daughters, and people said his boys and girls 
looked like their father, on whose coat of arms 
was a leather wallet and a pair of scissors. 


XIII 


THE DWARF S SECRET 
HERE is one curious thing about the 



little brown fellows of the mountains, 


called dwarfs, that seems very funny to 
us. Instead of thinking of themselves as less 
than men, they consider themselves fully as 
clever as human beings. Indeed, some of them 
strut about, slapping their stomachs and saying 
“who wants to be a man?” 

Instead of rating men as greater than them- 
selves, they are more apt to talk about human 
beings as slow, and dull witted. The dwarfs de- 
clare that they have secrets which no boys or 
girls, or even wise men, can ever find out. 

Most of the dwarfs live in caves, or down in 
the mines. They are very expert in using fires, 
forges, bellows, anvils, hammers, tongs, pincers 
and the tools of blacksmiths and machinists. 
They often make very handsome weapons, orna- 
ments and things of use, such as guns, ploughs, 
swords, armor, milkpans, and cheese caldrons. 

Now there was a hunter named Walter, who 
lived in the Alps. This man went out every day 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


133 


to get food for his wife and his large family of 
boys and girls, who all had good appetites. He 
never shot at any creature, or ever killed any- 
thing that had life, out of mere sport. He was 
always pleasant to the dwarfs also. 

So all these folks, in the caves and mines, got 
to like this hunter. Even the chamois, that he 
chased, knew that he was not cruel. Besides, 
they heard good things about him from the birds, 
that could talk the languages of goats, ibexes and 
chamois. 

Occasionally Walter the hunter shot a bear, 
and then he had a big fur robe, out of which to 
make a bed, besides bones for all his dogs to gnaw 
upon. Moreover, he was looked upon by the vil- 
lage people as a hero, and his sons felt very 
proud of their father. 

Yet it was not so easy, as some might think, 
to feed his large family, for each of these young- 
sters seemed to have a cave, growing in their 
stomachs, which, three times a day, apparently 
enlarged, as meal time drew near. Only a few 
potatoes and cabbages could be grown in their 
garden, and every wisp of hay, and all the dry 
leaves, had to be saved, to keep warm in the Swiss 
winter, which lasted eight or nine months. 

Buttermilk and potatoes, and corn meal, boiled 
in goat’s milk, was what was on the bill of fare 
for Walter’s family, most of the time. They 


134 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


were too poor to live down in the valleys, or vil- 
lages, where the land was all owned by well-to-do 
people. So the entire family, old and young, 
were kept busy at work, every moment of day- 
light in summer, when the snow was off the 
ground. There were many things to do, to get 
fuel, to keep the roof from leaking, and to pre- 
pare for the awful cold, from September to May. 

Walter’s chief trouble was with his poor gun, 
the barrel of which was a smooth bore, which 
could not shoot a bullet straight forward, very 
far, so that the hunter could not be sure of hit- 
ting anything that was over fifty yards away. 

Sometimes, Walter would spend many hours, 
or even a whole day, while out hunting, in climb- 
ing over rocks and up the steep mountain sides, 
to get even a distant shot at a chamois, only to 
miss his aim. Or, what was even worse, to this 
kind-hearted hunter, the leaden ball, going out 
of its course, only wounded the poor animal, so 
that it ran away, to suffer a long time and then 
die in pain. In this manner, Walter very often 
lost a dinner for himself and his hungry chil- 
dren, while he grieved over inflicting pain upon 
innocent creatures. More than once, he threw 
down the gun, in his anger, calling it names, as 
if it were an animal, or, at the worst, a “blunder 
buss.” 

Now, so many of the chamois had complained 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


135 

to their friends and protectors, the dwarfs, about 
the cruelty of hunters, and the sufF erings of their 
fellows, especially the doe and fawn, that all these 
little people held a congress, in a cave, and to see 
what could be done. Nearly a hundred dwarfs 
attended the meeting, and both graybeards and 
youngsters were invited to give their opinions. 
All agreed that men were stupid fellows, and had 
to be helped out, in all their needs and plans, as 
well as to have their wits sharpened, by the 
dwarfs. 

“Here is a really good and kind hunter, Wal- 
ter. He is using a blunderbuss, because he has 
nothing better. He ought to help him improve 
his weapon. But what can be done?” 

“We must first find out the reason why this 
fellow Walter, and others like him, inflict so 
many wounds upon the chamois; for we know he 
is our friend, and is full of pity for the animals,” 
said a venerable old chap, who seemed to be chair- 
man of the meeting. 

The talk went on for hours. At last a good 
looking dwarf, with a big head and very long 
white beard, slowly arose to speak. Usually, he 
never said a word, but listened carefully, until 
every one else had had his say. Then, if asked, 
he would give his own opinion, which always 
proved to be the sense of the whole meeting. 
Every one wondered how his head could carry all 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


136 

he knew, and how he could remember what each 
one had said. So he was generally known, by 
one or the other of two names, which, in the 
dwarf language, mean ‘‘Thought Includer,” or 
“Clarifier of Ideas.” 

The chairman at once recognized him, called 
him by name, and bade him come up in front and 
speak where all could hear him. He was very 
modest at first, and held back a moment, but fear- 
ing that some of the other dwarfs might twist 
their necks off, in turning them too far around 
to get a good look at him, and knowing that some 
of the old fellows were nearly deaf, he strode for- 
ward, Stepping upon a platform of rock, where 
all could hear him easily, he began thus: 

“The trouble with our friend Walter, and with 
all other hunters, good and bad, especially with 
those who are poor shots, is that with all their 
good intentions, they are too stupid. They need 
the help of us dwarfs.” 

Here he was interrupted by applause, and 
cries of “well said,” and “go on.” 

“Now,” he resumed, “from what has been al- 
ready remarked, by the honorable speakers in 
this company, I propose: 

“1. That we prevail upon the prettiest fairy in 
the Alps to lure this man Walter up into one of 
our caves, so far up toward the peaks that, get- 
ting very tired, he will fall asleep quickly. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


137 

“2. Then, while in slumber, one of our best 
soothsayers will make him dream of a gun that 
never misses fire, or fails to deliver its bullet to 
the mark. 

“3. Finally, that our best craftsman shall in- 
vent a new kind of weapon, with improved barrel 
and lock. Then, when Walter wakes up, I pro- 
pose he be shown how to use it.” 

On hearing this, all the dwarfs clapped their 
hands and the meeting broke up, every one feel- 
ing sure that men needed only the brains of 
dwarfs to help them. Now, they declared, there 
would be few wounded chamois to suffer pain. 

The chairman then selected, from the dwarfs 
that were passing out, one handsome fellow to 
take the message, in the most polite manner and 
correct language, to the fairy maids. These were 
to choose one of their number, as the Queen of 
Beauty, to lead the hunter to the cave, in which 
the dwarf’s secret was to be revealed. 

To another was given the task of conjuring up 
the dream for the sleeping hunter. 

Then a committee of four, of the cleverest 
dwarfs, was appointed to invent the new gun, and 
show the hunter how to use it. 

Now the cave selected, to which the prettiest 
of the fairies was to lead the hunter, was one just 
opened, a few days before, by an avalanche. In 
tumbling down the slopes, this colossal ball of 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


138 

snow and ice, well loaded with rocks, had struck 
off a part of the mountain which had bulged out. 
In a moment the rocky crust was broken open. 

Then as if a curtain had been lifted, a great 
cave, like a hall lighted with crystal chandeliers, 
was suddenly opened to view. As the sunbeams 
struck the walls, the vast space was seen to be 
full of topaz, glittering at a thousand facets, like 
cut and polished diamonds. 

The lovely fairy elected to allure the hunter 
was told about this new cave of jewels. She was 
perfectly delighted, with both the task given her 
to do and with the jewel parlor. She met the 
hunter, who was struggling upwards, on his way 
to the high peaks, after a chamois. She first ap- 
peared in his path, and greeted him with a smile. 
She then led him towards the topaz cavern. Her 
beauty so dazzled him, that, while she went ahead, 
talking to him, he quickly forgot the miles he had 
traveled. Occasionally, she would sing a sweet 
song. 

Soon she had led him into the topaz hall of the 
great cave, but no sooner had he crossed the 
threshold than he fell down, exhausted, upon the 
shining floor. In a moment he was in a deep 
sleep, from which he was not to awake for many 
days. 

Meanwhile, the master dwarfs were busy at the 
forges, making a new kind of fire arm. Instead 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


139 


of leaving the barrel smooth inside, they made 
grooves, along its whole length, which curved 
and twisted round. Or, as they said, they made 
it reiffelin , which kept the leaden ball perfect- 
ly straight on its course. When finished, a mas- 
ter dwarf asked the fairy to fly across the ravine 
and set up on the face of the cliff, a hundred 
yards off, a flat round bit of smoky rock crystal, 
only as big as a thaler, or a watch face. 

First the dwarf loaded the gun and then, with 
a mallet, pounded on the ramrod, to drive the 
lead of the bullet well into the grooves. Then, 
taking aim, he pulled the trigger. The bullet 
struck the disc, knocking the pretty crystal to 
pieces. 

By this time the hunter, asleep in the cave, 
began to dream, and the fairy whispered the 
secret in his ear. With both sight and hearing, 
he saw and understood all. 

Awaking, the hunter found his old blunderbuss 
gone. In its place lay the rifle, and a beauty it 
was, lighter to carry, more graceful in shape, and 
requiring less powder and lead. For one who 
had to climb mountains, this was a great benefit. 
So he at once loaded his new piece, so as to be 
ready for the first chamois he should see. He 
thought it would be fine fun to carry home a 
prize, in addition to his new weapon. 

He had hardly stepped out of the topaz cave, 


140 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


which seemed to close like a door behind him, 
than there appeared in view four chamois, each 
full grown and with splendid horns. Putting his 
rifle to his shoulder and taking careful aim, 
though the distance was great, he fired. In- 
stantly, there fell the finest of the animals, while 
the others scampered away. 

Retrieving his prize, Walter started down the 
mountain with the buck on his back. Reaching 
home, his wife embraced him, and all his children 
gathered round him, while his dog frisked about 
him in delight. Then he told the whole story. 

The next day, he walked to the village and 
showed the gunsmith the rifle barrel, which he 
had cleaned and scoured inside, until, when un- 
screwed from the stock, it shone like a mirror. 
At first, the craftsman laughed at him, but on 
looking down into the muzzle, as a sunbeam 
struck the touch hole and lighted it up along the 
whole length, the gunsmith opened his eyes wide 
in surprise. Besides a sight of it, he put his little 
finger in and at once discovered the secret. His 
eyes gleamed and his face lighted to a smile of 
joy. He begged the hunter to let him try the 
weapon. Walter gladly allowed him, for the 
gunmaker was an expert. At a hundred yards, 
he knocked a hole in a plough handle. On a sec- 
ond shot, he cut the stem of a lone leaf remain- 
ing on a maple tree. At his success, the gun- 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


141 

smith fairly yelled with delight. Thenceforth 
the hunter was called Mr. Walter Reiffler. 

The gunsmith, with the happy hunter’s per- 
mission, set up, as a sign over his shop, the pic- 
ture of a disc or circle, with eight dots showing 
the grooves in the gun. From this time forth, he 
could not make rifles enough to supply the 
chamois hunters. Each man wanted the new 
weapon. There was rejoicing, even among the 
dumb animals, for the dwarfs told them what had 
happened and why it was that none of their num- 
ber suffered pain any more, or died in agony 
from the hunters’ missing fire. 

So a new joy came into the life of Walter the 
hunter. After this, he could always get enough 
meat to supply his family’s need. From the skins 
and fur, the horns, and the heads, stuffed and 
mounted, with bright eyes made of glass, and 
sold in the village shops and hotels, and to 
visitors, he had plenty of pocket money. For his 
wife, he bought a tortoise shell comb, besides a 
linen and lace cap, and silver chains for her 
bodice. To each of his daughters, he gave enough 
spending money for them to save up sufficient to 
buy all the pretty things they needed, and also 
to lay in a store of linen, for their dowry. His 
sons, trained early to the use of the rifle, won 
prizes at the shooting matches, which now grew 
to be so popular as to become in time a national 


142 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


institution. This enabled the Swiss people to 
fear none of the despotic rulers of Europe, who 
hated republics. When one proud visiting em- 
peror asked one of Walter’s sons, who was a dead 
shot, what the Swiss, in little Switzerland, would 
do, if an army corps from Germany were to in- 
vade their land, he answered : 

“We should, each one of us, shoot twice, your 
Majesty,” answered the brave boy. 

All the other hunters were happy, too, for 
chamois meat was plentiful in every chalet. 
Nevertheless, so many of the herds were, in time, 
so depleted and the total number in the moun- 
tains so lessened, that laws were passed for- 
bidding any hunter, young or old, and no matter 
how famous, from shooting more than one hun- 
dred, during his life time. Yet, even then, there 
was plenty of meat for all, and very much more 
than in the old days. 

All the world rejoiced, also, for now, armed 
with the rifle, the wild beasts, even lions, tigers 
and grizzly bears that had so long destroyed mil- 
lions of human beings, were no longer able to 
drive men away. Even women hunters dared to 
go into the jungle and face the terrible creatures. 

In time, the rifle was made lighter to carry, 
prettier to look at, and easier to charge. Men 
discovered that the old way of loading was at 
the wrong end, and used the breech, instead of 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


143 


the muzzle, to put in the cartridges. So the 
heavy mallet and ramrod were left behind and 
forgotten, and wars became shorter and less 
dreadful. 


XIV 


THE FAIRY OF THE EDELWEISS 

E VERY child in Switzerland has heard of 
the Golden Age, long, long ago, when 
no ice or snow covered the mountains. 
Then grass grew, and flowers bloomed, clear up 
on the highest summits. Those barren and 
rocky heights, such as we see now, where noth- 
ing can live, but the big horned woolly ibex, were 
unknown; for they were then clothed with for- 
ests and verdure. One could walk all the way 
up to the peak’s top, amid beautiful trees, lovely 
shrubs and blossoming plants and sweet-smelling 
herbage. 

Summer then reigned for at least ten months 
in the year. The cows grazed on the delicious 
aromatic grass, that makes the breath of kine so 
sweet. Where now are only masses of snow and 
ice, and rivers called glaciers, were flowery 
meadows, full of birds and bright dragon flies, 
and musical with bees, crickets and singing in- 
sects. Then the cows were so big and fat, that 
they gave their milk, that was rich in cream, three 
times a day. Pastures were everywhere, and no- 

144 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


145 


body went hungry, for food was as cheap as 
leaves or pebbles. 

The old people still tell us that, during this 
period, all that one had to do was to ladle out 
the milk from tanks, as large as ponds, or pick 
big red cherries, by putting out your hands. 
Then the fairies were happy. On every moon- 
light night, they held dancing parties in the 
meadows. 

But by and bye, the terrible Frost Giants, that 
live up around the North Pole, heard of this 
Land of a Thousand Mountains, where the chief 
rivers of Europe were born and still have their 
cradles. Then these greedy fellows that in 
winter tie up all things fast, or freeze them solid, 
except for a few hours on warm days, when the 
sun is shining, said one to the other: 

“Come on, fellows, let us go down and con- 
quer this mountain country, that is so rich in 
honey, and cream, and flowers. We shall pile 
up the snow flakes, leagues high, and freeze solid 
the falling snow and cold water. We shall turn 
these into sheets of ice, that will cover the land 
thousands of yards thick, and kill all living things. 
We shall drive off all the flowers, blow the grass 
away, and chill the noses of the cows, so that 
they cannot graze. That will prevent men from 
having houses, and milk churns, and stores of 
cheeses. We must drive off the hens, too, so the 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


146 

people can have no eggs. If the sun tries to stop 
our work, we’ll laugh at him, so we will.” 

Thus spoke the Frost King, while the mists 
rolled out in clouds from his mouth, as he boasted 
of what he could do. 

“Yes, yes, indeed we shall,” cried all the Frost 
Giants, and a shower of snow flakes and ice par- 
ticles filled the air, for even their icy breath 
turned solid and was deadly to all plants. 

When the North Wind blew down the news to 
the Swiss fairies, there was much sadness and 
even terror. Where could the fairies dance, 
when the meadows were gone and the flowers 
dead? 

How could they float in the air, clad only in 
gauzy garments? How could they see each 
other, if mist and storm and darkness filled the 
air, and ice covered the ground? And how 
could they live without the blossoms? One fairy 
actually wept tears, in sympathy for the poor 
cows, that were certain to starve. And as for 
the children, whom the fairies loved, where could 
they play, if there were no fields to play in, or 
roses or violets to pick? 

One bold fairy looked defiance and spoke out 
loud in the meeting: 

“I’m not afraid of these Frost Giants, from 
the North Pole. They are nothing but big, 
boasting bullies. Let our Fairy Queen change 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


H7 


me into a flower, and clothe me warm enough, 
and I’ll defy even the Frost King to hurt me.” 

“Bravo, bravo!” cried all the fairies in chorus. 

“But how could you stay all the time up there, 
with no living thing near you, and all alone? 
You will have no neighbors, except the rocks and 
crags, and even they will be all bare, and swept 
by the fierce winds. Can you stand that?” asked 
an old fairy, doubtingly. 

“Yes, if for nothing else, than to show that 
we fairies are not afraid of the Frost Giants, I 
should be willing to live alone. Besides, our 
fairy queen will see that, by and bye, there will 
be others like me, and then I shall have company. 
The more of us, the merrier, I am sure. In a 
few thousand years, we’ll make an army and a 
victorious one, too.” 

Seeing this brave one, of her company, so 
ready and willing, the Queen of the Fairies put 
on her thinking cap. She spent a whole night in 
planning how to turn this volunteer fairy into 
a flower. Then she would bundle her up in furs, 
and dress her so warmly, that even the biggest 
and coldest of the Frost Giants could not kill 
her with his icy breath. 

And this was the way this volunteer, from the 
fairy ranks, was clothed and made ready to fight, 
in the long war with cold and storm, so that for 
ages, this little thing has been able to live far 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


148 

up on the mountain heights and, all the time, to 
smile and be joyful, and laugh, in the face of the 
Frost Giants. In fact, so happy is she, among 
the rock crags and sunshiny crannies, and so 
amused at herself, in looking down over the ter- 
rible precipices, to the rocks, thousands of feet 
below, that she would not exchange places or cli- 
mates, with even the cloves and nutmegs ; no, not 
even with the tea roses and coffee blossoms in 
the Spice Islands of the southern seas. 

Now it is customary in all happy families, 
when father and mother are expecting the cradle 
soon to be filled, to choose a name for the baby, 
and to have its clothes ready. This is done, so 
that the poor little thing, on coming into the 
world, will not get a chill, or sneeze, or have a 
cough, and die. Moreover, if it have a name, no 
one will mistake one baby for another, unless 
they arrive as twins, when some mark, such as 
a blue ribbon for a boy, and a pink one for a girl, 
is necessary. 

So the old fairies put their heads together, to 
find a proper name for the new fairy flower- 
baby, that was to live among the cold mountain 
tops and refuse to be frightened, or frozen, or 
be driven down lower, or to be cuddled up in 
meadows, near men’s houses, where it was warm. 

“What say you?” asked the Queen, of the wis- 
est of the fairies, who was considered a sort of 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


149 

sage or prophet, and who had a wonderfully long 
head. What name do you give?” 

With a loud voice, almost like a roar, this fairy, 
that wore clothes the color of an old man’s beard, 
called out “Anawphilis Margarita.” 

At this, every fairy looked at each other, as if 
to say, “What a mouthful,” “How strange a 
name,” or “So big for a little fairy!” or “Why 
does she talk Latin?” 

There were questions in their eyes also, but 
none asked “What does the name mean?” for all 
fairies are very shy about confessing ignorance. 

But the Fairy Queen, who knew almost every- 
thing, put on a look of great dignity, and dis- 
creetly inquired, of the sage, if her everyday 
talk was in Latin. She did not mean to be sar- 
castic, however. 

“Why would you call me by the ‘Pearly Lion’s 
Foot,’ if I were to volunteer?” asked a bright 
young fairy. 

“For two reasons, your Majesty,” answered 
the old oracle, addressing, not the young volun- 
teer, but the Queen, as was proper. 

“First, to reward valor and virtue, by giving 
an august name; and second, to let the Frost 
Giants, the insolent fellows from the North 
Pole, know, that when even one of us fairies puts 
her foot down, it is like a lion’s. No one can 
move, or lift, or push, or drive it away. We 


150 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


thrust forward this fairy flower, as our banner, 
to say to the enemy, ‘We shall not surrender, and 
we defy you!’ ” 

The Fairy Queen, full of admiration, replied: 

“We bow to your wisdom, and so it shall be 
written in our books. Nevertheless, both mor- 
tals and fairies must have also a short name for 
everyday use. How about the second, or per- 
sonal part, Margarita ?” 

“As you will, your Highness, but may I sug- 
gest even a better term, in the speech of the mor- 
tals of this mountain land? They will love any- 
thing that you may clothe and adorn, I am 
sure.” 

After this ending of her speech, the wise old 
fairy curtsied most politely. 

The Fairy Queen looked very lovely, as thus 
flattered, by the fine tact, and the charming 
speech, of this oldest member of the family; and, 
besides, as she loved the brave Swiss nation, she 
said. 

“You are always wise. So please let me have 
a name that will be popular with the Swiss 
people.” 

“Well, your highness, if it be your pleasure, 
we shall clothe your pet in purest white, like 
ermine, rivalling even the snow, without spot, or 
stain, or any dark tint. So, we may justly call 
it, the Edelweiss, that is, the Noble White.” 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 151 

At this, all the fairies shouted with delight. 
Even the Queen herself smiled, and then made 
answer. 

“You have well spoken; ‘Edelweiss’ it shall 
be.” 

Now that the name was ready, the Queen 
called for the attendant maids of the brave fairy 
volunteer and, then and there, the custom was 
begun, which mortals always afterwards fol- 
lowed, of robing a princess, who was to marry a 
husband in a foreign country. She must drop 
off all her former clothing, even to her glistening 
skin. Then, entering another room, in the new 
land, she must apparel herself in the garments 
that are fashionable in her new home — as in the 
case, for example, of the Belgian lady, who, long 
afterwards, came as a bride to the Castle of the 
Hawk, in the Land of the Swiss. 

Stripped of all her pretty gauzy skirts, bodice, 
and chemise, and standing forth as nude, as a 
baby in the bath tub, the Queen bade her brave 
fairy look at her new wardrobe, which lay piled 
up and as white as any snowdrift. Then, be- 
fore all the other fairies, the Queen put this 
question : 

“Are you willing, to leave the company of 
your fellows in fairy land, and be a flower, to 
remain rooted in the rocks, and amid the cold 
forever?” 


152 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


“Yes, truly, with all my heart,” answered the 
brave one. 

“And will you cast seed every year and mul- 
tiply your family, that will bear your noble 
name?” 

“Surely, for the more of us there are, and 
the more we can resist the cruel enemy, the F rost 
Giants, and make mortals glad, the happier we 
shall be.” 

“You have spoken wisely,” said the Queen. 
“We shall clothe you very thickly, in white robes, 
that look like flannel, but that are even warmer. 
So, no giant can hurt you, when he bites with 
frost, no snow storm chill you, or ice choke you, 
or North Wind make you shiver. We shall give 
you roots, that dig their way down deep in the 
crannies, and that will nourish your life. Be- 
sides, we have searched the world over, and, 
whatever of hair, or fur of arctic animals, or 
wool of sheep, or down of birds can show or sug- 
gest to us, we have used to weave a garment so 
warm, thaf the biggest of the giants, with the 
iciest breath and a beard of icicles, cannot even 
give you a chill. With your long hair,, and 
woolly coat, and roots that resist frost bites, you 
can tickle his nose when he comes too near and 
even laugh in his face.” 

“Indeed I will,” answered the fairy defiantly. 

“And will you do even more? Will you keep 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


153 

your eye on the cracks and crevices, that hold 
the sun’s warmth, so that your children can creep 
up higher every year?” asked the Queen. 

“The sun in the heaven helping me, I will,” 
replied this “Fairy of the Vanguard,” as some of 
her sisters already spoke of her. 

Then the Queen lifted her wand tipped with a 
star. She touched the forehead of the Fairy of 
the Lion’s Foot, which was her war name; while 
in the talk of mortals, she was called Noble 
White, though still the fairies, quite often, use 
the name Margarita. 

Then they stood fairy Edelweiss on a pile of 
rocks, filled in with sand and earth, to show the 
others where, and how, in the new world, Edel- 
weiss was to live and grow and enlarge her 
kingdom. 

It was a strange and wonderful transforma- 
tion, as the fairy’s pretty feet turned into root- 
lets, that quickly thrust themselves deeply 
downwards, gripping the rough rock and drink- 
ing in the moisture and juices in the soil. 
Grandly the Edelweiss showed her pride, in be- 
longing to the great family which a famous man 
first named after the Little Frogs, because they 
love moist, damp and soft places. 

Yet all this was beneath. 

Above, there first rose a stalk, a few inches 
high, until it reached half a foot. Then the 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


154 

arms multiplied and stretched out. They were 
densely covered, like sleeves of overcoats, with 
thick coverings, each resembling white flannel, 
or velvet, and as warm as the fur of an ermine. 

“Looks as if she had on an ulster,” said one 
of the many fairies, some of whom thought she 
looked too sweet for any use. 

And yet, so far, there was no real flower, but 
only a defence, like armor, against those worst 
enemies of a plant, cold and frost. 

N ow for beauty and for glory,” said the 
Queen. 

Out of, and on top, the dense star-like mass of 
warmth and coziness, as if robed for a skiing or 
skating party, there blossomed forth many 
round-headed tufts, or rosettes, that were pearly 
white. 

Now, not only thickly clothed, but beautiful 
and strong, the Noble White was given a home 
at once in a rock cranny. Like a new-born baby, 
that, as soon as it arrives, sticks its thumb in its 
mouth, as much as to say, “This world is all 
right; I am going to like it,” the Edelweiss rooted 
itself at once and began to grow. 

Years passed by, and the lovely white flower, 
flourishing where only the chamois and the ibex 
among animals lived, or the red Alpine rose could 
bloom, multiplied. Like a brave army, it moved 
steadily forward, occupying every crevice, 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


155 


cranny and hollow. These the hardy plants held, 
like forts, against all cold comers; yes, even re- 
sisting the avalanches, that tried to crush these 
little strangers. 

In a few hundred years, thousands of the 
Noble White plants dotted, or made beautiful, 
the bare rocks, or hung over the precipices. In 
vain did the icy breath of polar winds, or the 
blasts of the rude Frost Giants, or even the hurt- 
ling avalanches, drive the Edelweiss away. Nor 
was the hot south wind, the Fohn able to 
wither it. 

Swiss maidens made this flower the emblem of 
their own purity, and also of the tenacity of 
faithful lovers. At the wrestling and shooting 
matches, the young men wore its flowers in their 
hats, or twisted them among the ropes, which 
marked off the boundaries of their games and 
wrestling bouts. To heroes, it was the symbol 
of perseverance, endurance and that quiet force 
which compels victory. Patriots so loved it, be- 
cause of its resisting power — the spirit of ad- 
vance instead of retreat — that they would gladly 
make it the national flower. Switzerland — the 
Edelweiss among nations — has held its own for 
ages, maintaining her life and independence de- 
spite the alien power of invaders and tyrants, 
and the Swiss still sing their national hymn, 
“Stand fast, O Fatherland!” 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


156 

So also Edelweiss, the Noble White, remains 
forever as the Swiss emblem of their republic, 
and of its beauty and permanence. To destroy 
this flower, the Frost Giants make their con- 
tinual assaults in vain. Just as mighty mon- 
archs have tried again and again to overwhelm, 
as with avalanche of invasion, the freedom 
of the Swiss, and have always failed, so the Edel- 
weiss never yields. Its white banner hangs for- 
ever on the heights. To every boy and girl, it 
is, as a living motto, bearing, amid snow and 
ice, the message of Excelsior — Higher yet and 
ever onward! 


XV 


THE AVALANCHE THAT WAS 
PEACEMAKER 

S OMETIMES judges and lawyers advise 
people, that have a quarrel, to settle their 
case outside of court. When a person 
thus decides between two, who are not agreed, 
we say that they are judicially minded. Now 
there was once, in Switzerland, an avalanche, 
that did what peacemakers and honest judges 
could not accomplish. So it was called the Ju- 
dicial Avalanche. 

Now, in the path of this avalanche, as it be- 
gan to roll, was a rounded rock, called the 
Pagoda Curve. This was because it had a turn 
up and backward, like a sleigh runner. At a 
distance, it looked like one of the roofs, which 
they build in Peking, Soochow, and other Chi- 
nese cities. Once in a while, the ladies of the vil- 
lage on the slope below held tea parties on it, 
drinking out of egg shell china cups. Then 
the maidens pretended they had little feet, and 
ate candied ginger, and stuck pear blossoms in 
their hair. On their part, the boys wore pigtails 
157 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


158 

of horsehair, behind their caps and shot off fire 
crackers, to make believe they were Chinese man- 
darins of the old style. 

One summer’s day, this tremendous avalanche 
came rolling and thundering down the mountain 
side, and Pagoda Curve was directly in its path. 
When it struck this rounded rock, there was not 
enough of the bulge or re-curve, to stop the ava- 
lanche, but only to give an upward joust, or 
bounce, toward the sky. Then the big ball which, 
for a moment, was poised high in air, hung di- 
rectly over the houses, five hundred feet below. 

This dorf, or village, had a name, which, in 
English, means Tell’s Apple. Most of the 
houses stood on a flat place, among the moun- 
tains which rose round about it, like sentinels in 
ice-armor. The people who built it, long ago, 
were great admirers of the famous archer, who 
shot the apple off his little son’s head. The 
place where they kept the pig pens was named 
Gessler, after the cruel governor. 

Now in this place, and just at this time, there 
was a very ugly and dilapidated old house of 
worship, which had been erected several hundred 
years before, and was now almost ready to tumble 
to pieces. 

For a long time, the question, of tearing down 
the old church and erecting in its place a new 
one, in modern style, had so vexed the commu- 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


159 

nity, that a disgraceful squabble had broken out. 
The people of one party would not speak to, or 
have anything to do with, those of the other way 
of thinking; and all on account of this old build- 
ing. The young people were hot for a new edi- 
fice. They hoped to get an architect from 
Zurich, who had gone from their village, and had 
his plans all ready, which the young ladies all 
said were “just lovely.” 

Against these, the old folks held to the idea 
of keeping the holy house yet a while longer. 
The aged people were especially anxious that the 
venerable tower should not be touched, but be 
kept ; and they even wanted to give it a new coat 
of paint, for which, of course, the younger party 
would not vote. 

On this very afternoon, the choir had gathered 
to practice to sing the hymns for Sunday. The 
organist had put his foot on the pedals and 
struck the keys, and the soprano had just opened 
her mouth, when down thundered the ava- 
lanche ! 

This was far worse, than when a June bug had 
once flown into her mouth — as had happened on 
a Sunday night, a few weeks before. She 
stopped and the tenor’s face turned white, as if 
the crack of doom had been heard. 

The sexton was outside, sitting on the steps 
smoking his pipe, when a lump of ice knocked 


160 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

the pipe out of his mouth, scattering fire and 
tobacco, down into his vest bosom and over his 
best trousers. Then followed a crash, as stone 
and brick, and the lightning rod, fell on the pav- 
ing stones of the street. 

All thought the world had come to an end, but 
when they lifted up their eyes to note the dam- 
age, they all declared that this was the most 
obliging and considerate avalanche, that had ever 
visited that region. It simply knocked over the 
old tower, and enough of the church walls to com- 
pel rebuilding. 

The mighty mass rolled past one corner of the 
village, upsetting a farmer’s barn, but doing no 
further hurt or damage, except to a bob-tailed 
cat of vicious character. 

This animal had fought with many dogs, and 
one, that it had scratched pretty badly, had bit- 
ten off its tail, so short, that even a rabbit would 
be ashamed of the measly tuft, left on the end, 
for, only what looked like a furry plug was 
visible. 

Now this old puss, known as “Stumpy,” was 
just that minute about to sneak up to a bird box, 
in which were four very hungry little birdies. 
The mother bird was out, seeking worms for her 
little folks’ dinner. 

Stumpy was just about to thrust in one of its 
front paws, through the little round hole, in the 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


161 

bird box, hoping to claw and drag out the four 
squabs, one by one, and eat them all up; when 
down came the edge of the avalanche, like ten 
billion of bricks. It just grazed the bird box, 
without doing any harm, or hurting the young 
ones inside, but it flattened out that puss, so that 
it crawled away alive, but limping, and meowing 
most piteously, and with one ear ground off by 
a bit of sharp ice. The mother bird, returning at 
this moment, seeing the cat, danced around and 
chirped out what sounded like the Japanese “aru 
beki” (served you right) . 

The avalanche was last seen, when rolling 
down the valley in the direction of the vineyards, 
apparently with the fell purpose of overwhelm- 
ing them all in one common ruin. But, on its 
way, it struck again, right in the face, of an out- 
jutting rock, on the side of a mountain, which 
made it roll around in another direction. 

As for the church question, that was settled. 
There must be a new building and there was one 
soon, which, when finished, toned up the whole 
dorf. At a later meeting, one frivolous youth 
proposed a resolution of thanks to the avalanche, 
but this was voted down. Then the pertinacious 
fellow brought in a proposition to give thanks for 
the special Providence, that had opened the way 
to peace in the church. This was carried by a 


162 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


majority vote, all the young people being on the 
affirmative side. 

The way that judicial avalanche behaved, was 
a scandal among the Frost Giants. The old style 
had been to toss donkeys, and their drivers, down 
within glacier crevices, into cold storage, a 
thousand feet deep; to crush houses, kill cattle, 
and bury more people in one day than the under- 
takers could put into coffins in a month. Besides 
this, old fashioned avalanches used to lay waste 
orchards, and fruitful fields, and spoil vineyards. 

The conduct of this avalanche, which seemed 
bent on settling quarrels, was more like that of a 
nun, a monk, a parson, or an old grandmother. 
It happened to be about the time that the great 
Napoleon was upsetting the world like a polit- 
ical avalanche, and the Empress Josephine was 
covering up the red arms of peasant girls, now 
wives of generals, with long white kid gloves 
reaching up to the arm pits. 

Now, in a certain house in the dorf, an old 
fashioned mother was scolding her frivolous 
young daughter, named Angelette, for aping 
Paris and Napoleonic fashions. She remarked 
that things had come to a pretty pass, when a 
young snip of a girl needed the leather of a whole 
goat to clothe her arms. Daddy had also joined 
in the conversation, but only to lose his temper. 
In his gestures, the cover of his pipe dropped 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


163 

off, spilling the hot ashes all over his daughter’s 
low-necked frock. The sparks made her jump, 
besides reddening the skin of her neck, even 
more than her arms. 

The girl Angelette was dressing for the even- 
ing dance, on the green, and was quite put out 
by the accident. In fact, the old man had seized 
the tip of Angelette’s middle finger of her glove 
and had pulled off the half yard or more of white 
kid, when the avalanche flew past. It flung a 
bit of rock, like the bolt of a catapult, right 
through the window, sending the glove, all 
muddy and torn, out of the other. 

Thinking his last day had come, the old daddy 
fell on his knees to pray, but he was quickly 
awakened to his senses, by hearing a regular con- 
cert in the barn yard. Outside, the donkeys were 
braying, the horses neighing, the roosters crow- 
ing, the geese cackling, the hens clucking, and 
the dogs barking — and all in joy. As for the 
old billy goat, he stood up on his hind legs and 
cut up such capers, that the whole family of kids 
began to igiitate him by frisking in a circle. 

Where, a minute or two before, had been 
ominous stillness, there had come, in the twink- 
ling of an eye, a salvo of rejoicing in the animal 
world. It was as if the boarders in Noah’s ark 
had been let loose and were having a concert. 
It’s a way the animals have, of showing their 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


1164 

joy, with a kind of music, all their own, which 
they can make, when the danger they feared is 
over and deliverance has come. 

There was also a bride, the daughter of the 
richest man in the dorf, who was dressing for her 
wedding. All the other girls of her set were 
collecting their old shoes and handfuls of rice, 
ready to fling after the young couple’s carriage 
for good luck. 

The bride’s kid boots, ordered from Paris, had 
cost fourteen dollars. The mail wagon having 
arrived, with the letters and the salt, at the Post 
Office, had just stopped in front of the bride’s 
house and handed out the long waited package. 
The servant maid was bringing the lovely white 
buttoned shoes upstairs, when, along and down- 
ward, thundered the avalanche. According to a 
way that avalanches have, this one flung off, at 
the sides, stones, rocks, gravel, ice and mud. 
Now, like cannon balls in a bombardment, one 
mass of wet snow, not quite so big as a fat ele- 
phant, struck the maid. It knocked her heels 
over head, sent her slippers flying, and her feet 
in the air, until one could see the color of her 
stockings, from toe to knees. As for the box 
from Paris, it was shot, as out of a gun, into 
the pig pen. The bride screamed, but nobody 
was hurt, and the maid quickly smoothed out her 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 165 

hair and dress, put on her slippers, and she was 
soon presentable. 

It was weeks after the honeymoon, and return 
of the couple, that, after searching up hill and 
down dale, the remains of what were once a pair 
of white kid boots from Paris, were found in 
the black mire, among the pigs. Not knowing 
what it was, the porkers had crushed it under 
their hoofs. After trial with their teeth, unable 
to eat it, or its not tasting nice, the pigs thought 
it was not worth a turnip. One piggy, without 
chewing, had actually attempted to swallow it. 
Not finding it suited to a hog’s diet, the animal 
had dropped it with a grunt, and trampled on 
it. When fished out with the long handled pitch- 
fork, it was recognized as a Paris shoe, by the 
two white buttons, which had escaped the black- 
ening of the mire. 

By this time the proceedings of this avalanche, 
which had started out to settle quarrels, had 
become positively frivolous. Wabbling about, 
here and there, reeling like a man with a quart 
of brandy in his stomach, the mighty ball rolled 
down the long road, leading into a larger village. 

“Now,” fancied the Frost Giants, that were 
watching from aloft, “it surely will uphold the 
reputation of the family and act like other ava- 
lanches, in turning villages into cemeteries, and 


i66 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


farms and vineyards into deserts.” Vain 
thought ! 

This lively chit of an avalanche followed the 
road, far enough to tumble, flat into the ditch, 
some drunken fellows, who had just come out of 
the gin house, and were staggering homewards. 
It was like ironing out clothes, to see the way 
that avalanche flattened out those topers. It left 
them for hours on the roadside, faces down- 
wards, and sleeping off their debauch. When 
they woke up, as out of a cold bath, they shook 
off the snow and trudged homeward, only to get, 
from their sharp-tongued wives, the scoldings 
they richly deserved. 

Many another adventure did that judicial ava- 
lanche have, before it had scudded past other 
villages, but hurting next to nothing, avoiding 
forests, farmhouses and vineyards, until it 
reached a glacier, over which it rolled. 

Scratching, cracking, dropping out dirty stuff, 
rock and gravel, it acted like a dredge box. It 
sprinkled out its contents, to fill up the great 
deep green crevasses in the ice, until it finally 
reached a big open space of waste land, that had 
nothing on it, but rocks and bushes. Then, with 
a roar, as if laughing at itself, it broke up, spread 
open, and left the place strewn with more rocks 
and stones and lumps of ice. 

Then a troop of fairies came riding on the hot. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 167 

dry, south wind. They blew, with their breath, 
on the snow mass, and quickly melted it into the 
river, so fast, indeed, that men wondered at the 
high water in the distant lakes and the rivers 
in France. In lovely Switzerland, new soil was 
made, where today are farms and vineyards. In 
time, billions of purple clusters are plucked, and 
willing tourists are happy, in taking the grape 
cure ; while they walk over the place where once, 
a judicially minded avalanche had laughed so 
hard, that it burst. 


XVI 


THE FAIRIES AND THEIR PLAY- 
GROUND 

O NCE upon a time in Switzerland, there 
was a Golden Age for cows and people. 
This was before the country had become 
the playground of Europe and the Land of a 
Thousand Hotels. It was before men climbed 
mountains for pleasure; or, imitating the New 
Hampshire Yankees on Mount Washington, had 
built railways to their summits, and filled the 
land with wires and rails. Not then, could the 
Edelweiss be bought in a drygoods store, or in 
the markets. Not then did lazy and soft-muscled 
tourists pay money to have burnt upon alpen- 
stocks the names of a hundred mountains, which 
they never even saw, except from a hotel porch, 
or distant window, or from the train. 

Then, as the old ladies tell us, summer lasted 
during ten months of the year and the very 
mild winter only eight weeks. Flowers were 
everywhere and the bees were so busy that im- 
mense caverns were stored with the honey combs, 
which hives could not hold. Colossal stalactites, 


1 68 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


169 


and mosses, big as cabbages, were common. 
Then the land was so rich in clover and grass, 
that grew up to the very tops of the highest 
mountains, that the cows had to be milked three 
times a day. They were so large and fat, that 
the milk was poured by the bucket full into 
tanks, so big that the milk men went round in 
boats to skim off the cream for the making of 
cheese. These balls and disks were so thick and 
so big around, that the dairy men had to be 
very careful in piling them up in the store 
houses. 

For, if, when rolling one inside the door, it 
broke loose and went trundling down the valley, 
it might destroy a village and people might think 
it an avalanche. 

In those days, there were no mists, or storms, 
or barren rocks, or danger of landslides. On 
the day for churning out the butter from the 
cream, they used to employ the giants and give 
them big dinners for their wages, for the churns 
were like towers, for height. 

This was the story of the Golden Age, as told 
by the old folks, who sat on their stone seats in 
front of the quaint wooden houses. As told, 
year after year, everything grew in size, just 
as an avalanche starts as a snowball and is fin- 
ally able to wipe out a whole village, including 
modern hotels, as is done occasionally in our day. 


170 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


But what happens always, when people get too 
rich or prosperous, followed in this case also. It 
went to their heads. Then they become proud, 
lazy and often cruel. Gold got to be as common, 
as iron or lead had been, yet many old frumps 
and codgers wanted more. Then misers became 
numerous. Such fruit grew out of the root of 
all evil. It seemed as if there was nothing more 
deceitful, than those very riches which their an- 
cestors knew nothing about. In such prosperity, 
the farmers and shepherds had foolishly thought, 
lay the secret of all joy. They had imagined 
that, if they could only get and increase what 
they could sell for money, it would make them, 
as they used to say, “perfectly happy.” 

The climate changed and gradually the whole 
land grew colder. Snow covered the mountain 
tops. Rocks, storms, fog, mist, and clouds lay 
long over the land. Land slides occurred 
often, and avalanches ruined the meadows 
and villages. Huge rivers of ice, called 
glaciers, leagues long, and hundreds of yards 
deep, were formed. These covered up the 
flowers. Summers grew shorter and winters 
grew longer. Grapes and fruit shriveled up to 
their present size and cows and goats were no 
longer such givers of food as of old. Milkmaids, 
who had to work with a cow thrice a day to get 
two small pails of milk between daybreak and 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


171 


dark, wondered at the story of the Golden Age, 
which the old folks constantly told. They 
wished they had lived then, when a boat, instead 
of a bucket, was the sign of a dairy man’s shop. 

Many looked wistfully up at the ruins of an 
old tower, now ivy grown, where the owls hooted 
at night. They wondered, when told that, in the 
Golden Age, this w r as the Giant’s Churn, in 
which boat loads of cream were turned into but- 
ter by the good natured monster, who ladled out 
the yellow delicacy, with a shovel, as big as a 
pine tree. 

In the Golden Age, the fairies were very nu- 
merous, of many kinds and always busy. 

Some were rough, and loved to play tricks 
on stingy farmers, bad tempered milk maids, 
rude boys and naughty girls; but most of them 
were always glad to do something nice and pleas- 
ant, and, especially, to help kind people in their 
work. 

But when the age of steam and smoke and 
puffing locomotives, and boats, with iron chim- 
neys, that breathed out choking gas from their 
furnaces, and left clouds of blackness on the 
beautiful blue lakes and landscape, had come, the 
happy days changed to gloom. Men made 
railroads up to the very tops of the mountains 
and stuck their big hotels in the prettiest places, 
even on the high Alps. They spoiled the village 


172 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


dances, drove away the poor people from their 
old amusements in summer, and even turned 
thousands of the once honest Swiss folks into 
money-grubbers. Then the fairies lost all pa- 
tience, and determined to call an out door con- 
gress, such as the mortals do at the Landsge- 
meinde, or town meetings, when they talked 
politics and voted by thousands, raising their 
hands, to mean “ yes ” or “no.” 

One fairy, that was the lawyer and politician 
of the Swiss fairy world, was especially angry, 
when it was learned that even the children were 
taught by their parents to tell lies about their 
mother being dead — when she was waiting in the 
chalet, for the money the little girls got by telling 
doleful tales and thus moving the pity of trav- 
elers. 

One day, after hearing some of these dread- 
ful stories, the fairy took the form of a Yankee 
pedestrian tourist, and walked along a well 
beaten path in the mountains. Coming to a 
closed gate, which shut off the passage, it was 
opened for him by a little girl, not ten years old, 
who said plaintively with tears in her voice: 

“Meine mutter is gestorben,” (My mother is 
dead) . 

At this, the kind hearted fairy, in Yankee 
clothes, nearly dropped his Alpenstock, out of 
sheer sympathy. Taking out his purse, he was 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


173 

about to hand the child a silver coin ; when, look- 
ing up at the doorway of the chalet near by, he 
saw a woman standing and peering out with 
keen interest. He hesitated a moment, and then 
inquired, of the little gate-opener, whether that 
were her mother. She, having learned to speak 
her piece, but not prompted as to any further 
question, replied at once “Yes.” 

At this the fairy in disguise lost his temper 
and said to her “you little cheat !” Then he shut 
up his purse, and passed on. 

Quickly changing into his former fairy form, 
messengers by the score were sent out by him 
over the mountain tops, down in the mines, under 
the lakes, over the pastures, and wherever fairies 
of any kind or sort lived. These were all sum- 
moned to the meeting. 

The hour and place of gathering was named, 
and it was promised that all, whether pretty or 
ugly, slow or rapid of speech, and whether of 
land, water, air, or snow, should have a chance 
to talk, all being limited to a quarter of an hour 
each. 

What was of the most importance, was the 
guarantee given, that all delegates should be ex- 
cused, and the whole meeting break up before 
sunrise, so that no fairies would be turned into 
stone, when the sunbeams should strike them. 

No ogres or man-eating giants, of either sex, 


174 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


were invited to this meeting, for the Swiss fairies 
are a very respectable lot of folks. In some 
countries, they do not have anything to do with 
“gods,” or “devils.” They are very particular 
as to who or how or what they regard as fit for 
society, or look upon as equals. Such beings of 
uncertain reputation as “the gods,” or “the 
fates,” or “the devils” or any of their tribe, were 
not known in their fairy society. It is said that 
such beings used to live in the mountains, when 
the Romans were in the land. 

Many people said that some of these used to 
live still further back and long ago, in cer- 
tain mountains and caves which could be pointed 
out, but they went away forever, after the good 
saint Fridolin, and others came to St. Gall and 
Appenzell, from Ireland, a thousand years ago. 
When the idolators, in China or Japan, would 
build a temple for their idols, they inscribed it on 
their bells that “gods, as well as devils,” have 
paid or subscribed money to help rear the struc- 
ture. 

But Swiss fairies are better educated, and they 
have nothing to do with either “gods” or 
“devils.” These creatures have no reputation in 
Switzerland, and are not received into fairy so- 
ciety; for the Swiss fairies approve of churches 
and never hurt them, or the good people who go 
to them. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 175 

In fact, what all the fairies resented most, and 
about which they were as mad as fire w T ith mor- 
tals, was that they had brought in such creatures 
of their fancy into the country. Men described 
the worst one of the lot as having hoofs, horns, 
a sooty skin, hooked nose, forked tail and sul- 
phurous breath. 

In other words, this fellow was something al- 
together diff erent from any sort of fairy ki earth, 
air, sky, water, cave, or mine. Besides, though 
the demons had the reputation of being always 
very busy and very smart, they never did any- 
thing good, nor helped honest mortals, as the 
fairies often did. 

In truth, the fairies of every sort held their 
noses, and otherwise showed their dislike, or con- 
tempt, whenever any one made mention of the 
name or the deeds of demons, or devils. 

What made the lovely fairies and the frost 
giants awfully mad, was, that human beings 
should name the pretty scenery, the wild crags, 
and the rocky valleys and mountains after one, 
they called His Infernal Majesty. A certain 
fairy told the story of a funny mortal, who had 
got mixed in his ideas. She had overheard one 
bumpkin find fault with the president of a col- 
lege for inviting a popular preacher to address 
the students. “He’s an atheist,” said the fellow, 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


176 

“for he does not believe in a personal devil;” at 
which, both fairies laughed heartily. 

It was the general opinion, however, that mor- 
tal men could do wonderful things. They 
might build railroads up to the mountain tops, 
harness every waterfall, fill the valleys with elec- 
tric machinery, and erect observatories to study 
the weather and the stars. For all this, the fairies 
paid them due honor. 

It was acknowledged that, in one thing, some 
of the native mortals could beat the world, that 
is, in holding out their hands for a gift. Fairies 
thought this was because they had a disease, 
called itch of the palm; but they noticed that a 
coin always healed the trouble and caused the 
fingers to shut up finely on the silver. 

But when human beings gave credit, for the 
smart things which the fairies used to do, to the 
monster they called the Devil, they were vexed 
indeed. Both the frost giants and the flower 
fairies declared that they would go on with their 
work, for who or what could stop either of them ? 
Besides, no human beings could produce any- 
thing so pretty as a flower, or a snow crystal. 
At the idea of their making Edelweiss out of 
canton flannel, and selling these bogus things 
in the shops, they laughed again and again. 

In spite of railways built up the mountains, or 
tunnels dug into them, the gnomes and the 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


i77i 


kobolds declared, fiercely, that they should have 
their own way down below the ground, so long 
as there was any fire left in the earth. 

The Undines and the Herwischers made their 
boast that, while glaciers melted and became riv- 
ers, and lakes were lakes, and marshes grew reeds, 
they, and all the water sprites, were determined 
to have a good time in their own way. They 
would enjoy their tricks and play their pranks 
on stupid mortals, as long as they pleased. 
There was too much fun in it for them to give 
up their old customs. 

* Besides these foolish fashions, that will pass 
away,” said the president, “there was one place 
where machinery, or the jim-cracks of inventors, 
and all this chatter about science, or any thing 
else, can never destroy. None of these things 
can reach the hearts of the children.” Then he 
went on to say: “There will always be a new 
generation who love us. Even after all the 
learned men and scholars and prudes and fault- 
finders shall have had their way, and tried to 
drive out of the libraries such splendid fellows as 
Santa Claus or William Tell or Humpty 
Dumpty, they would climb through the window, 
go down the lightning rods, and from the chim- 
neys into the nursery. 

“Even if the prudes tried to abolish the fairies 
by law, and shut out all the fireplaces, and did 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


i?8 

away with sleighs, for automobiles, and had aero- 
planes, in place of wagons, even then a new lot 
of fairies and heroes would come in and take the 
place of the banished old friends of the children. 
They would sit in the chairs, peep in at the win- 
dows, live in the nursery, and refuse to be driven 
out. In Switzerland, they would hide in the 
milk churns, or behind rocks, or in the ice cav- 
erns. In a word, never having been born they 
could not die.” 

A wise old gnome spoke for his companions, 
as follows: 

“It is only those creatures that have bodies and 
have to be born and must eat and drink food 
every day, that get old, and have to be buried. 
Besides, every fairy knows that, while thousands 
of tourists come, year after year, in their bodies, 
as in sleeping cars and day coaches, very few 
ever really get into that Switzerland, which, after 
two thousand years, has grown up in the Swiss 
heart. These foreigners come and go, and eat 
and sleep, and drink, but what did they know 
of the Swiss soul?” 

One ancient fairy that looked as if he might be 
several millions of years old, who had a name 
too long to be pronounced, but which means, 
when translated, “I told you so,” summed up 
in his speech what he had seen come to pass, since 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


179 

mortals arrived on the earth. He had looked 
upon the lake dwellers, the Romans, the barbar- 
ians, the visitors of all sorts and times, and finally 
the hotels and tourists. 

“ There have been many changes of fashions 
since I paid any attention to mortals,” said he. 
Then he made them all laugh, by continuing: 
“Once, nobody cared for the mountains. Now, 
all human folks are writing poetry about them, 
or climbing them, or punching their faces with 
alpen stocks. Once no one loved the flowers of 
the Alps. Now, foolish mortals, in both trous- 
ers and petticoats, come with their long purses, 
but they are too lazy to climb up to the real 
‘Alps,’ and pick the blossoms where they grow. 
So they buy them, already and artificially made, 
in the market. They go shopping for canton 
flannel Edelweiss, as they would for soap, or 
tooth brushes. They stick these woolen things 
in their hatbands, and they have their alpen 
stocks branded with the names of places, 
whether they have been there or not. Or, they 
make belt bouquets of the Alpine roses, or gla- 
cier violets, and then strut about as if they were 
explorers. What fools these mortals be.” 

At this, all the fairies of every sort and kind, 
laughed and guffawed so uproariously, that the 
meeting adjourned in disorder. 


180 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

Yet they all went away happy, for they felt 
sure that whatever foolish mortals should do, 
Switzerland would still be the fairies’ play- 
ground. 


XVII 


THE KANGAROO POA 

D URING millions of centuries a battle 
on, between the frost giants and the 
flower fairies. Occasionally, for a few 
tens of thousands of years at a time, the ice riv- 
ers and the snow avalanches would roll down the 
mountain sides and smother, or crush all the 
pretty blossoms. Rocks and stones in the 
glaciers would squeeze the leaves, and tear out 
the roots, so that nothing could grow. Then the 
whole land would become a cemetery of ice, or a 
graveyard covered with snow, for all the plants 
of every kind were frozen stone hard and were 
dead beyond hope. 

Nothing could be seen but jagged rocks and 
sharp peaks rising up out of the desolation. No 
bird, beast, insect, or fish could live in such a 
world, for there was nothing for them to eat, or 
to grow with. Though there was plenty of 
water, there were no fish. Cows could not graze, 
or goats, or deer find any grass or moss, and 
dogs would die at once, for lack of meat. 

But the sun in the sky was always the friend 

181 


182 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


of the flower fairies, and he kept on, fighting 
Jack Frost, and the glacier giants, melting the 
ice and snow and making rivers that carried off* 
the cold water to the sea. 

So by and bye, after a few millions of years 
had passed by, the fairies, who never die of old 
age, got together in a meeting. After talking 
the matter over, they resolved to have a flower 
that could fight the frost giants, by laughing in 
their faces, and keep on growing, no matter how 
hard the winds blew, or how deep the snow was, 
or how often the avalanches fell, or glaciers 
formed. Besides being able to live, and find its 
own food, by rooting itself deep in the crevices of 
the rocks, such a flower ought to be sweet, and 
Taste good to the cows. 

In this way pastures would be coaxed to cover 
the meadows of the high Alps with their green 
glory, well spangled with blooms. Then men 
could get milk and make butter and cheese. The 
fairies liked good boys and girls, and were always 
glad to help their fathers and mothers, and they 
also loved meadows, with plenty of flowers and 
grass, for their moonlight dances. They never 
enjoyed this, their favorite amusement, so much 
as when, in the spring, the fields or the heights 
were both fragrant and beautiful. 

But how could a pretty plant, such as they 
wanted, get clothes enough to keep from shiver- 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


183 

ing all winter? How could a flower be made 
hardy to laugh at Jack Frost, when he came to 
bite her? 

The fairies young and old, all thought it over, 
but no one could tell how to begin or proceed. 
The young ones thought much of gloves and 
muffs, tippets and leggings, hoods and ear muffs, 
thick stockings and fleecy lined gloves. Yet how 
could these be made to fit a plant? 

It was natural for them to think in this way, 
for all their things to wear were on the outside, 
both for grown ups and those fairies that were 
more like big boys and girls. On the other hand, 
the fairy mothers were all the time thinking 
about the baby’s life, and not only how to cover 
the young thing, but also to have it warmly 
wrapped up, when it was still very little. They 
brought to mind examples of papooses well 
bundled in furs for cradles and hung on the 
branches. Some told of Esquimaux babies, all 
swaddled in furs, that are given a lump of whale 
blubber, instead of candy, and skewered on a 
stick, so that it will not swallow the tidbit, all 
at once, and choke. Others told of Italian bam- 
binos, wrapped up tight, and Japanese akambos, 
held pick-a-pack style, on their big sisters, but 
none of these seemed to give the right idea of 
what was wanted. 

At last, one old grandmother fairy made a 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


184 

sign that she wished to speak, and all listened 
while she talked. 

“You fairies had better stop thinking about 
human beings, for not one of them could live 
where we want this flower to grow. It is too 
cold, and the frost giants already own the coun- 
try. Better look to the animals to show us how. 
Now I have heard of a two-legged creature, that 
yet is not a man nor a woman; and another one, 
with four legs that carries its babies, even a 
whole family, of four or five, in a pouch in front 
of its body, until the little ones can take care of 
themselves. In this way, they are kept free from 
danger, until they grow up and can provide for 
themselves.” 

“Oh do tell us about these wonderful crea- 
tures,” cried all the young fairies at once; and, 
though the old folks were silent, they were just 
as eager to hear. 

“Well, the four-legged creature is the opos- 
sum, and lives in America. The mother carries 
a whole family of her cubs in a chatelaine pocket, 
which she wears in the front of her dress. She 
can even climb up a tree with her family. 

“Who can believe that?” whispered one fairy 
to another. “And the other?” she asked, hardly 
believing such a thing was possible. 

“Let me tell you, then, about the kangaroo, 
that lives in Australia. She has a wallet, or 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


185 

travelling bag where, or in which, she stows 
away her little folks, and there they are as cozy 
as if they were riding in a wagon. Yet, all the 
time, they can look out and see what is going 
on in the world. In this way, both the young 
opossums and the kangaroos are kept warm, and 
are fed until they are grown. No wolves, or 
bears, or foxes can catch and run away with 
them.” 

“Can a kangaroo climb a tree?” asked a fairy, 
whose fancy had been greatly taken with the 
idea of a whole family being up a tree at once, 
and free from the wolves. 

The old fairy felt insulted, or thought the ques- 
tioner was trifling, and made no answer. So 
there was quiet for the space of three minutes. 

“Well then,” asked still another fairy, “can 
you furnish us with a vegetable kangaroo?” 
This was asked in a tone of contempt, as if she 
believed it were not possible to protect anything 
from Jack Frost and the giants, even though the 
sun helped with all his might. 

“Well, not exactly the Australian jumper, or 
the American tree-climber; but, if we can per- 
suade the sun to help us, we may get a plant to 
become more mother-like, and keep her babies 
at home, until they are weaned and warmly 
clothed. Then, when they grow up, they will 


186 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

be able to find food, and set up housekeeping for 
themselves.’’ 

So it came to pass that the sun and earth, and 
the fairies, all agreeing together, they invited a 
plant, named the Poa, to come in their country 
to live and raise children, that could stand the 
cold. 

As fast as the glaciers or ice rivers melted, the 
fairies coaxed the Poa family to multiply and 
come up higher. This the plants always did, 
increasing in numbers like a great army. They 
climbed higher and higher, until they formed 
acres upon acres of meadow land, for the cows 
and goats, that enjoyed the delicious taste of 
the ripened grass. When the glaciers had re- 
treated and melted away, the Poa covered the 
land. Then the cows multiplied. They were fat 
and sleek, because of rich food, and men won 
wealth by making butter and cheese. The young 
fairies watched how the Poa grew and cast its 
seeds, and they called it the kangaroo plant. 

And this was the reason why it was named, 
by the fairies, the Kangaroo Plant. Watching 
its opportunity, the Poa Alpina started every 
springtime, from the lower meadows, to go up 
on the mountain tops nearer the stars, in time 
becoming victorious, like an army. Instead of 
dropping its ripe seeds to the ground, or having 
them blown far by the winds, or letting them 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 187 

leap out, like popcorn, or lending them the 
wings, which dandelions have, or trusting to 
birds, or sailors, or men who sell seeds to farm- 
ers, the Poa had a new way of its own. The 
mother stalk held her babies, that is the seeds, as 
long and as close to her, as an opossum keeps her 
cubs or a kangaroo her kittens. 

Instead of first weaning them and then letting 
them go away to play or ramble abroad, out of 
her sight, she kept them all with her until they 
were full grown, that is, until they had both 
leaves and roots ; for these are the legs and arms 
of a plant, whether it be a Johnnie Jump Up, 
or Sweet William, or Ragged Robin, or Dusty 
Miller, or Lady’s Slipper, or Four o’Clocks, or 
what not. So, before Jack Frost could bite them 
hard, or the giants crush them, or a snow storm 
bury them, or an avalanche roll over and flatten 
them out, or a cow eat them up, they hid them- 
selves in all the crannies, cracks, and crevices of 
the rocks and down deep too. Wherever any 
sand, or dust, or moss, or moisture was, there 
you would find a whole family of the young 
folks of the Poa family settled down, all grow- 
ing up and able to take care of themselves. 

Now like a great army they are, indeed. 
They laugh at winter’s cold, or icy wind, or 
driving sleet, and even at that scorching south 
wind, the Fohn, that blows for over two weeks 


i88 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


in the spring time, and again, for a fortnight in 
the autumn. By and bye, in a little while, ac- 
cording to the fairy clock, that is, in a million 
years or so, the Kangaroo Poa had spread all 
over Switzerland. Twenty thousand cows were 
made happy, for they loved to browse on the P oa 
pastures, and liked nothing better. Now, nearly 
two million of Swiss cows enjoy the summer 
feast, while their bells tinkle on the hillsides. 

When the calves were too big for their moth- 
er’s milk, and the lady cow got tired of being a 
restaurant for her booby calf, she pushed it 
away, and said, in cow language, “go and eat 
Poa.” Sometimes the calf did not like to give up 
its baby habits, learned in the nursery. Then, it 
behaved like the naughty boy, who said “I’m 
hungry and bread I won’t have. I want cake.” 

Then the mother cow tried another plan. She 
would give notice to the cowherd, in her own lan- 
guage, that she had done her part, and wanted 
him to attend to her naughty, and bad tempered, 
or sulky calf. Then the man would put a leather 
strap with sharp nails on it, over the calf’s muz- 
zle, so that, when calfy wanted refreshment, it 
would be like sticking pins into its mother. 
Then the cow would push the calf away and 
make it learn to eat Poa. 

But once having taken a bite, the calf never 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 189 

again wanted to eat anything else. It tasted as 
good as candy to a little girl. So Switzerland 
became one of the greatest countries in the world 
for butter and cheese. The fairies rejoiced, too, 
for the Poa, with its pretty blossom, made the 
meadows, which were their dancing hall, more 
beautiful, and for them, it was like waltzing on a 
cloth of gold. 

And to this day, the Alpine Poa is as wonder- 
ful, among plants and grasses, as the opossum 
and kangaroo are among quadrupeds. 

The fairies, that had succeeded in so clothing 
the edelweiss, that lives among the rocks, that it 
was able to resist the frost and cold, were now 
very happy over their second venture. Like a 
brave and vigilant sentinel, the new flower kept 
guard. The Poa was clothed, so as to delight 
the cattle, while the edelweiss was dressed for 
beauty, and to please mortals. Thus, both man 
and beast were blessed. 

And it is, even yet, the flowers that, with vigi- 
lance and valor, guard Switzerland against the 
assaults of the ice giants and the frost army. 
These would make the Land of the Edelweiss 
like the regions of the North Pole, if it were not 
for the flowers and the grass. That is the reason 
why the Swiss people are not like Esquimaux. 
Their beautiful country holds the chamois, and 


190 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

the ibex, and the birds, instead of walruses and 
polar bears; and the people have bread, and 
honey, and cream, instead of seal meat and 
blubber. 


XVIII 


THE SWISS FAIRIES IN TOWN 
MEETING 

I N Appenzell, and some other cantons in the 
heroic Swiss republic, many old democratic 
customs still prevail. One of these is seen 
in the Landsgemeinde, or meeting of all the men 
not only in a village, but in the whole canton, or 
district. 

This long word means a mass meeting of vot- 
ers. The people gather together in a great 
crowd, when they wish to settle matters of pub- 
lic interest. They vote, not by casting bits of 
paper in a box, or with a voting machine, but 
by raising their hands. 

When the president of the meeting puts the 
question, tens of thousands of fingers at once 
go up in the air. This is the ancient form of the 
town meeting, which is still kept up. 

The Swiss fairies follow Swiss customs, and, 
not long ago, one moonlight night, they met to- 
gether on a glacier in a deep valley. 

They had much to talk about. It was not all 
gossip, but after much friendly chat, that they 


192 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


began. Not one said “How do you do?” For, 
none of them ever gets sick, or has influenza, or 
whooping cough, or the mumps, or the measles, 
or tooth ache. They never have doctors, or take 
doses of medicine, or wrap flannel round their 
necks, or swallow castor oil, or have the doctor 
visit them and feel their pulses or make them 
stick out their tongues. 

Instead of all this, the fairies usually inquire, 
one of another, in this fashion, “How about those 
curious creatures called men?” Or, “How are 
mortals behaving?” Such questions, as “What 
are they dp to now?” or “What are they doing 
to spoil our fun?” are very common also. 

Some of them at this meeting wanted very 
much to tell about some of the tricks, which they 
had played on foolish men, or how they had done 
a good thing or two to people they liked. There 
was, however, no time for a long chat, for it was 
said that much business was on hand. Moreover, 
the meeting must break up before daybreak. 

We shall not describe all that were present, 
for most of them looked like the fairies of other 
countries. Yet there were some entirely Swiss, 
and these are known, or heard of, only along the 
Rhine or the Rhone river, or on the mountains 
inside the country. 

The water fairies, quite the most numerous, 
were present in full force. There were the 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


193 


sprites, or “necks,” that live in, and had come all 
the way from the river Neckar. They looked 
and behaved very much like the nixies of 
England. 

Undine was the general name of one family of 
the female water fairies. All of these were in 
the form of pretty young women. They love to 
sit by the side of the brooks or water courses. 
Sometimes they lurk in the marshes among the 
reeds. They have very white hands and golden 
hair, which is full of waves or ripples, that can 
beat Marcel, or any other hair waver. On their 
heads they wear a fillet, or wreath, made of pond 
lilies, and often have on a long white veil-like 
mist. They are very sentimental and have ten- 
der emotions and whisper often and sigh a great 
deal. They delight in dancing along the shore, 
and go flitting from one water lily to another, 
opening the golden hearts and lovely white petals 
of these flowers that grow in the water. 

These mist maidens were very attentive to all 
that was talked about, but they did not them- 
selves say much. Like other pretty fairies, they 
were lovely to look at, but they had no soul, and 
if they had any brains, no one would ever know 
it. One would not expect to meet them at 
matinee parties, or at any daylight picnics, for 
they made it a rule never to be seen, except on 


194 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


moonlight nights. It was therefore useless to 
look for them at any other time. 

Very much like Undine and her sisters were 
those in a delegation of fairies from the Grotto 
de Balme. This cave may be seen on the way 
to Chamounix, but high up above the level of 
the road, and has stalactites hanging from the 
ceiling. The story teller remembers it well, but 
when he was there, the fairies were all out, for 
it was broad daylight, when fairies do not allow 
themselves to become visible. How we two col- 
lege boys wished we had spectacles, that could 
pierce the light and make the fairies to be seen. 

These grotto folks, that were at this mass 
meeting of the fairies, looked much like human 
girls, with olive complexions; but if one looked 
carefully, he would see that they had no heels. 
Their hair was the most wonderful part of them, 
for they never wore any clothes. When any 
human person came near, they could cover them- 
selves up entirely with their tresses, so that noth- 
ing but their roguish, laughing faces were visible. 

They were great coquettes, and often ap- 
peared on mountain paths, to lure away young 
hunters; but old men only, laughed at them, and 
hummed a tune and ditty about “The Spider and 
the Fly,” for they knew all the tricks of these 
grotto girls. Sometimes these pretty creatures 
carried lights at night and danced in circles, so 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


195 

it was very hard to tell one from another. Yet 
they looked very lovely, with their fresh faces, 
sparkling eyes and pretty manners. Besides 
these charms, they had, each one, a soft low 
voice. Of all these grotto girls, Funetta was 
the best known. 

In fact, some of these fairies belonged to the 
same families as fairies in other lands, though 
they spelled their names differently and talked 
German, French or Italian, and, what sounded 
like the speech, which country people in Switzer- 
land use. 

For instance, there were several of the Her- 
wisch folk, or first cousins to the Will-o’-the-wisp. 
Several dozen of little creatures of this family, 
not much bigger than dolls, were on hand. They 
live on marshy ground and delight in lighting 
their little lanterns at night. Then they entice 
bumpkins and other dull fellows, out of the regu- 
lar path in the fields, into the mud and swamp. 
When the clumsy chaps are floundering deep in 
the water, and down among the frogs and tad- 
poles, the Herwisch put out their lights and 
leave the louts in the wet, all the while laughing 
at them. Stupid fellows from the grog and beer 
shops, with their brains befuddled, are the chief 
victims of these merry mischiefs. It is good to 
see how many a drunkard gets a ducking and 
cooling off from these tiny tots. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


196 

Some of the Herwisch folk have wings like 
bats, and to the bold girl or boy that is too smart, 
and makes fun of them, they come and flap their 
wings in his or her face and this frightens them. 
Men, especially, who have drunk too much wine, 
get easily scared. After it is dark, most people 
are careful not to anger, or irritate the Her- 
wisches in any way. 

Quite different in their bearing and looks, as 
well as in their ideas and manners, was another 
set of delegates to this fairy convention. These 
were the gnomes, the kobolds, and the elves. 
They were near relations, and looked very much 
alike, especially in stature, in the color of their 
skin, and in all having beards. Most of them 
live underground and in the mines. These very 
industrious and lively little fellows are always 
busy. Many among them look like old men. 
When they talk to each other, their long beards 
and chins wag up and down, so the boys and 
girls call them “chin choppers.” They wear 
funny, peaked caps, each with a tassel on the 
end of it. They have to do with gold mines, 
for they understand all about fires, forges, coal, 
crucibles, and what one sees in a foundry. 

A long time ago, one of these gnomes amused 
himself and enriched the good people in a place 
called Plurs, by pouring liquid gold in a crevice 
of the rocks. But having thus gained plenty 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


197 


of the precious metal, the people got to be very 
proud, like most mortals who get rich suddenly. 
They lost their good manners, and got drunk and 
fell into very bad habits. When the gnomes saw 
that the heads of these mortals were turned, and 
that their hearts were like those of bad pota- 
toes, they threw down tons of dirt upon the vil- 
lages and destroyed them, just as men burn up 
caterpillars and potato bugs. 

It is true that at this meeting, the elves, 
gnomes and kobolds were, some of them, so black 
and sooty, and smelled so strongly of smoke and 
fire, that the more dainty fairies in gauzy dresses 
did not like to sit near them. Besides this, some 
of the kobolds came with their leather aprons on, 
and altogether they were such real blacksmiths, 
that the doorkeeper did not want to admit them. 
At least, the water fairies thought, they might 
have taken off their aprons and washed up a 
little. 

Biggest of all, at the assembly, were the frost 
giants, and one of these, who towered above all, 
was chosen, by a show of hands, to be president 
of the meeting. A half acre was allowed him 
to sit down upon. When ready to tap for order, 
he picked up a boulder, for a gavel, which 
weighed a ton or more. With this, he pounded 
on a flat rock. At the sound, all stopped talk- 
ing, looked up and listened. One minute before, 


198 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

it was like the buzzing of bees. Now all was si- 
lence. 

These frost giants, of whom a dozen or so were 
present, had ridden to the meeting each on his 
own avalanche, which he used for a bicycle. 
They all had long beards of icicles, that appeared 
like stalactites in a cave. Their big eyes looked, 
for all the world, like locomotive headlights, and 
some of the little fairies were afraid to look at 
them. 

Their sabots, or wooden shoes, were hollowed 
out of whole trunks of fir trees, and when they 
walked they made an awful stamping noise. 
Their breath, like mist, rolled out in great clouds 
over the assembly, so that at times some of the, 
fairies could not see the speaker and several felt 
very chilly. Their voices, in speaking, sounded 
like rolling thunder. When the president 
pounded with his gavel, some of the fairies, sit- 
ting at the edge of the crowd, thought an earth- 
quake had taken place. 

During the debate, when some of the frost 
giants lost their tempers, it seemed at times, as 
if they would hurl rocks at each other, or gobble 
up some of the smaller fairies, such as the elves, 
or Undines. In fact, the gentle flower fairies, 
that were very thinly clothed in gauzy dresses 
and loved warmth, shivered, when a frost giant 
came near them, and some almost cried, lest they 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


199 


should get frozen. In fact, one brave little fairy 
borrowed a white fur coat, made of edelweiss 
velvet, and boldly sat near the frost king — to the 
mingled fear, anxiety and admiration of her sis- 
ters. One of them even said she was “a pert 
hussy.” 

On the other hand, one cunning summer fairy, 
with a fan of flowers in her hand, enticed a young 
frost giant to come and sit down beside her. 
Then she threw a spell over him, and he was so 
wrapped up in her charms, that she actually 
melted him with her beauty, so that when the 
meeting broke up, there was no frost giant there, 
but only a puddle of cold water; for that is what 
frost giants turn into, when the weather is too 
warm. 

Each speaker mounted the platform, which was 
a big boulder, with a flat top. When any of the 
frost giants, who sat up in front, made a speech, 
it was noticed that, while there were gnomes and 
kobolds out on the edge of the audience, who 
shouted “Louder, Louder;” some of the gentler 
fairies, who were nearer, put up their hands to 
their ears, for fear of being deafened. It was 
hard to please all, and at one time, when there 
were too many on their feet and all wanted to 
talk at once, the president roared out that he 
would adjourn the meeting, if there was not 
better order. 


200 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


As for the grotto girls, they were pointedly 
requested, several times, to stop whispering. 

It was a pretty long session, for all were al- 
lowed to have their say, just as at a town meet- 
ing of mortals. 

Yet when one of the big giants talked too 
long, or when a lovely and pretty fairy wan- 
dered in her thoughts, and prattled too much, 
without saying anything, the whole company 
coughed him, or her, down. After all, nothing 
much came of the meeting, for they could not 
agree. 

Here the president of the meeting pounded 
hard, to call the long-winded fairy to order, lest 
he might keep on for a week. It would soon be 
sunrise, when they must all scamper. 

So, at the first streak of light, in the east, down 
came the gavel of the president, with a force 
that split the rock, and, before half of those who 
wanted to speak, had opened their mouths, the 
congress was adjourned. 





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XIX 


THE PALACE UNDER THE WAVES 

F ASHIONS change in the fairy world, as 
well as among mortals who live on the 
earth. The Swiss water fairies, called 
Undines, at times grew tired of living down be- 
low the surface of the lakes and rivers. When 
restless, they longed to mingle in the village 
gatherings. They wanted to hear the lively mu- 
sic of the young men and maidens, as they sang 
and danced. Their favorite time for waltzes and 
cotillions was on moonlight nights. 

So it became quite common, at these times, 
for the fairy maids and swains to swim up to the 
shore. Then these Undines changed themselves 
into girls and young men. They put on clothes, 
that were deep green, the color of the waves. 
Slipping in among the dancers, they joined in 
the fun and merry making. In this manner, 
many a lad romped with a water fairy and even 
kissed her, thinking she was or might be his 
sweetheart; for, in the dim light of the moon, 
it was not always easy to see clearly the face of 
one’s partner. Many a lassie received an em- 
201 


202 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


brace, or a salute on the lips, from a lively 
dancer, whom she supposed was a new comer. 
He might not be well known in the village, she 
thought, though he appeared graceful and 
dressed very nicely, in sea green, gauzy clothes. 

Yet no matter how hard these Undines might 
try to get their clothes entirely dry, they could 
never wring the water out wholly of their gar- 
ments, so that they were always more or less 
damp. If they had changed their form too 
quickly, their clothes would drip, and make spots 
on the floor, or ground. Often the village folk 
felt dampness, on their limbs below the knees. 
Yet few ever gave the matter a second thought, 
for their minds were wholly set on having a good 
time, and they had it. 

Sometimes the lady fairies started rather late 
in the evening to take their swim to the lake 
shore. Fearing to lose some of the fun, and 
thinking they might even find the dancing all 
over, and the people gone home to bed, they were 
in a great hurry, while on the strand, to change 
into the form of mortals and put on their human 
clothes. So it happened that, when they joined 
in the dance, one sharp-eyed fellow, who was 
playing the violin for the measures, noticed that 
something was wrong. In fact, he was so sur- 
prised, that he suddenly stopped fiddling. Then, 
instantly, everybody dropped arms and stood 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


203 

looking around at the musician’s stand, to see 
what was the matter. In a moment, it was as 
quiet as a church aisle, when the parson was 
praying. 

What he saw made his eyes big and round. 
Then, most impolitely — as some of the girls 
thought — he pointed to a maiden’s green petti- 
coat, that was beneath her outer dress and that 
had come a little below her frock. It was drip- 
ping with water. Again, after looking with 
searching eyes at another, and a third, he 
screamed out: 

‘‘Folks and fellow villagers! Don’t you know 
you’ve got the Undines among you? Look there, 
and there, and there!” Then he pointed, with his 
fiddle bow, to some of the prettiest of the female 
dancers. “Just feel the hem of their skirts, and 
you’ll know what sort of guests have been danc- 
ing with you tonight.” 

Whereupon, every young man turned his fe- 
male partner round, and some of them, most un- 
gallantly, flapped their hands on their lower 
skirts. Feeling and finding that these were very 
damp, four or five of them at once lifted up their 
hands, which were wringing wet, and shook off 
the drops. 

One bold fellow even went behind, and seized 
the tail of his partner’s petticoat. She seemed to 
be the sloppiest-looking girl in the whole party, 


204 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


and he actually wrung out a half pint of water. 

Thereupon, a tall handsome fellow, leader of 
the Undine party of a half dozen or so, put his 
two fingers in his mouth and gave a sort of whis- 
tle. At once, all the Undines shouted and ran 
down to the water’s edge. There, they stopped 
a minute or two, on the lake beach, and then 
leaped below the waves and disappeared. It 
sounded as if six big seals had made a dive. 

One villager, who pretended to be an Undine, 
ran quickly after these water sprites and saw 
them for a moment on the shore, when they 
changed their form before resuming their old 
shapes. 

He came back to tell a wonderful tale of what 
he had seen. When he examined the clothes they 
had left behind, he found that though they looked 
shiny, in the moonlight, the stuff was only that 
of some water plants like sea weed. 

When arrived in their crystal palace under the 
waves, the king of the Undines gave the girl 
fairies a good scolding, for not, in the first place, 
being more punctual in both starting and coming 
home, and next, for being i r. too much of a hurry 
in changing themselves into mortals. As for the 
others, he punished these by forbidding them 
ever to dance again on that side of the lake. 

Ever after that, when, on moonlight nights, 
the village lads and lasses came out to waltz, they 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


205 

scrutinized each partner in the dance, before al- 
lowing him or her to join in when the music be- 
gan. Some, among the younger set of girls, 
felt offended at such a severe examination ; but it 
was necessary, and the other girls agreed to it. 

Yet even then, the water sprites would some- 
times join in; for, when everybody was lively, 
and the fun was fast and furious, each one of 
the lads and lasses was too much excited to no- 
tice the dress, or to be certain as to who was 
who, or which was which, or what was what, or 
even to see the face of a partner. 

One night, the daughter of the lord of the 
grand chateau, the Princess Babi, slipped out 
the castle gate, along with several of her maids, 
and joined the village youth in their fun. At 
the very height of the dance, a young man be- 
came her partner in the waltz, chiefly because of 
his elegant clothes and polished manners. 
Though he did not talk, but expressed his offers 
and wishes by signs and motions, she enjoyed 
mightily his dancing, which was both deft and 
graceful. 

There was present, however, a sharp-eyed 
mother, a nurse, who had three nieces in the 
dance. She kept looking, like a lynx, at every 
lad in the party. At last, she noticed this un- 
usually handsome and stylish fellow, who 


2o6 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


seemed to wear finer clothes than most of the 
village hoys. 

The old woman’s suspicions were fully aroused, 
when she saw the young couple linked, arm in 
arm, and, especially, as he turned his body round 
in the dance. For, when the moonbeams fell 
upon the skirt of his coat, it shone as only wet 
clothes could, in the silvery light. The color re- 
flected was that of wave green. 

Upon this, she made up her mind that this fine 
fellow was no other than the King of the Crystal 
Cavern, which was far down in the world under 
the waters. 

She was about to give the signal, that would 
expose him, when her mouth was shut, and her 
limbs felt as if paralyzed by some unseen and 
unknown power, when she saw him off er to take, 
as his partner, the Princess Babi, the daughter of 
the castle lord. 

Smilingly the lovely maiden put out her arms, 
in return for his embrace. All she thought of 
was the fun and merriment. Yet, within a few 
minutes after they had linked arms together, he 
started in a whirling dance. It was so rapid, 
that the mother and the older spectators, who 
sat watching the young people, were too fascin- 
ated to speak or cry out. They noticed him 
whirling his partner around, but getting ever 
nearer the lakeside. Wider and wider were the 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


207 


circles they made, but all the time he was bring- 
ing her nearer the beach; while she seemed de- 
lirious with delight, apparently oblivious to 
everything but the rapturous motion. 

Reaching the shore, pausing hardly a moment, 
he leaped with her into the water, which was 
then silvered with the moonbeams and rippling 
with the breeze. 

Down, down, below the sparkling waves, the 
King of the World under the Waters — for it 
was he — made her his wife and queen, but never 
would he let her go back home. 

There, among the great coral trees and groves 
of gold and silver and amid heaps of shining 
gems, with a score of maidens to wait on her, 
valets and footmen and servants of a strange 
sort, and with food rich and abundant, pleasing 
and tempting to both eye and palate, and with 
the most entrancing music ever at her command, 
she was enraptured. So delighted was she, that 
the years passed away as days. 

Yet even when touched with homesickness, and 
longing for those she had left behind on earth, 
in her castle home, she found herself watched 
and guarded. The gates, though made of emer- 
ald and sapphire, shut of themselves, because 
moved, by some secret spring, against her re- 
turn. Having once eaten of fairy food, and ac- 
cepted her husband’s gifts, she could never again 


208 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


leave either the palace or the World under the 
Waves. The crystal cavern was her prison. 
When she looked in the mirror, she found her 
teeth were wave green. She was now an 
Undine. 

Yet in the village, where the story of the cas- 
tle princess was told, it was declared that, on 
calm still nights, when the moon shone bright- 
est, the most delightful music could be heard 
coming up from the lake. Some of the fisher- 
men were sure that, far below on quiet summer 
days, also when no wind blew, and the sunbeams 
struck deep into the waters, they could peer 
down into the depths and see the walls and tow- 
ers of this crystal palace. 


XX 


THE ALPINE HUNTER AND HIS 
FAIRY GUARDIAN 



iHERE is one variety of the Swiss fairies 


who manage to get along with very few 


clothes, and those very thin. The pret- 
tiest ones among them seem to live up among 
the highest mountain peaks. There, it is colder 
than anywhere else, but these fairies do not mind 
it. Furs are not in fashion, but only very filmy 
garments. On their backs are gauzy wings, by 
which they can fly around from one peak to an- 
other. They hover over the meadows also, which 
in summer glisten with blossoms of every tint and 
hue. They love to plague Jack Frost, and the 
old mountain giants, that have beards of icicles, 
and hair of snow streamers, and who try so hard 
to freeze out the flowers. 

These fairies know all the secrets of the moun- 
tains. They find out where the largest and pret- 
tiest rock crystals are, and where the priceless 
minerals are to be found. They can tell just 
where the caves of sparkling topaz are situated, 
but they do not let any mortal know, unless he 


209 


210 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


is their favorite. They can lead a hunter to the 
spot where the chamois are feeding on the moss. 
When they want to reward a brave man, they 
bring him bullets that are sure to hit the buck, 
and win for the marksman a fine pair of horns; 
or, at the village shooting matches, plug the 
bull’s eye of the target, and so secure the prize. 
To please his fairy guardian, the hunter must 
always promise to do what she bids him, or else 
her bad temper is roused. Then she scolds, and 
leaves him to his luck, which, after that time, is 
never good. It is not safe to quarrel with a 
fairy. 

Now there was one of these lovely creatures, 
named Silver Wreath, because she looked as 
charming as the morning mists at sunrise, when 
shot through and through by the up springing 
light. Then they float off in the air, like glisten- 
ing wreaths made of golden braid, or like scarves 
of silver. Sometimes, when illuminated by the 
sun’s rays, they remind one of necklaces of 
pearls; or, when many are together, like white 
garments of burnished silver set with costly 
gems. 

Silver Wreath, the fairy, was noted for living 
among the lofty peaks, where only the hardiest 
flowers, such as the Alpine rose, and the noble 
white flower, called the edelweiss, could grow. 
No animal or bird, ermine or ptarmigan, could 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


211 


be whiter than her body, which glistened like 
snow crystals or hoar frost, when struck by the 
sunbeams. When she blushed, her whole body 
was like the wonderful Alpine glow that, after 
sunset, robes the mountain tops, and both for the 
same reason. The sky becomes rosy red, be- 
cause the sun’s rays are reflected from the snow, 
even after going down. So this fairy’s beautiful 
body not only shone by its own light, but at times 
reflected the great luminary’s loveliest tints. It 
was a way the sun had, of saying “good night” 
to the mighty mountains. So, also, fairy Silver 
Wreath blushed when, in the dawn of day, she 
made her farewell curtsey to her companions, 
for, after sunrise, the fairies disappear. 

Now there was a brave hunter named Jeannod, 
who lived in a village of Uri. In his pursuit of 
the chamois, this stalwart youth was not afraid 
to follow this agile animal over the most dizzy 
precipices, and far up beyond the snow line. He 
did not hesitate to climb the most perpendicular 
mountain walls, to get a good shot. Hence, he 
was often compelled to spend a night, amid the 
cliffs and glaciers. 

One evening, while on a hunting expedition, 
Jeannod caught sight of Silver Wreath, as she 
was flitting on her gauzy wings around a peak. 
At once, he fell in love with her. Happily for 
him, she was, after several meetings, enamored 


212 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


of Jeannod, and he became her favorite. As they 
became better acquainted with each other, she 
guided him over unknown paths and often 
warned him of danger. She directed him to the 
chamois herds, and fed him with the finest oat 
cake and cheese. When too wearied to retrace 
his way back, or to return home, for the night, 
she watched over him while he slept. There, far 
above, where the eagles flew, she guarded her 
lover from falling rock or ice, shielding him from 
every peril, seen and unseen. 

In that way, it happened that for many 
months, the hunter was in luck and became the 
envy of his village companions. He never slipped 
or lost his balance, or fell over a precipice, or 
into an ice crevasse, or was hit by an avalanche, 
or lost his path. On every occasion he came back 
home with a fat buck on his shoulders, or a brace 
of ptarmagan birds, or a big rock crystal, and 
always looked rosy and healthy; all the young 
girls admired him, and the youth wanted to be 
like him. They hoped to learn the reason of his 
luck, which he kept a secret. 

Silver Wreath soon found out what Jeannod 
liked most to eat, for while she was a fairy, he 
was a mortal, and had a stomach, and, always, 
a lively appetite. He was very particular, and 
rather fussy about the kind of cheese he ate, and 
he always bought the best that could be found 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


213 


in the market. In fact, he would often walk 
many miles, and spend his last coin, to get a 
cheese of an especially good brand or flavor, no 
matter at what price. 

The fairy soon found this out, about her lover’s 
taste, and when Jeannod was hungry, after 
climbing the steep rocks, she fed him on a most 
delicious kind of cheese. He declared no mortal 
man or woman could make any equal to it, 
whether in taste, or in nourishment, or in flavor. 
On the other hand, he amused her by singing, 
rattling off rhymes, or telling her stories about 
men and women. One of these, about “Peter, 
Peter, Pumpkin-eater,” seemed to her to be the 
funniest of all. After that, when he asked her 
what he might bring her for a present, he was 
surprised to hear her say a “pumpkin shell.” 
Then he laughed heartily. When he brought it 
to her, she kept the pumpkin shell in a rock 
crevice as a great curiosity and called it her doll 
house. 

Jeannod was so happy in his love for fairy 
Silver Wreath, that he wanted to make her his 
wife. So one day, he kneeled before her and 
asked her to be his bride. He thought it would 
be easy for her to accept his love and care, after 
she had so helped and favored him. 

But Silver Wreath, much as she loved Jean- 
nod, did not welcome the idea of either changing 


214 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


her nature, or leaving her mountain home. Either 
or both meant much to her, though little to him. 
She would have to put on women’s clothes, and 
be bothered with changes in fashion, with .which 
fairies are not troubled. She would be shut up 
in a house, among mortals, who get old and die. 
She would have to depart from heaven-high 
peaks, and things white, and vast, and glorious, 
and dwell among gossips and tale-bearers. Be- 
sides, she could not tell whether Jeannod would 
always be fond of her. One day, she remem- 
bered the story he had told her, in fun, of “Peter, 
Peter, Pumpkin-eater,” and it frightened her, 
when she thought of Peter’s wife. So she 
brooded, long and hard, over the matter as to 
whether she should say “ yes ” to Jeannod, and 
be his wife. Would he be a Peter, and keep her 
in a pumpkin shell? 

Yet the hunter was so handsome and so brave! 
Besides, he did so love the mountains and the 
Alpine flowers! Every time he came to her, he 
had an Alpine rose in his coat as a symbol of his 
joy, which might, however, be for his lifetime 
only; but, in his hand, he held an edelweiss, as 
symbol of faith in the things eternal. This 
showed that he thought of both the aff airs of the 
body and the life of the soul, in the true Swiss 
way. Besides, he so vehemently assured her that, 
whenever she should get homesick, he would take 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


215 


her with him up to her old haunts. Every time 
he went to hunt the chamois, she should be his 
companion. Last, but not least, he pressed his 
suit so ardently that, finally, she consented to 
marry him, and live in his home. 

But she gave her promise, only on one con- 
dition. She would be a faithful and loving wife, 
and live truly as a mortal, provided he should 
agree to the rules, which she made about eating; 
and, if he would observe the table manners, which 
she approved. Knowing his weakness for cheese, 
she vowed to keep the larder furnished, always, 
with the same kind of this delicacy, upon which 
she had fed him in his hunting trips, when he 
made love to her. 

“I’ll wed with you,” she said, “provided that, 
every time, when you eat and enjoy the cheese, 
you will leave one small portion, uneaten, on 
your plate.” 

This one condition of wifehood seemed so sim- 
ple, that he laughed out loud, and poked fun at 
his betrothed, at her being so childish. But she 
looked very grave, though she did not speak a 
word. Fairies are not fools, and it may be that 
even mortal women know more than men, in 
some things. Besides, the pumpkin shell had 
become to her such a spectre, that, one day, she 
smashed it with a rock, even after he had prom- 
ised vehemently to obey her law as to table man- 


2l6 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


ners. Then he gave her a kiss, and everything 
serious was forgotten in the mutual joy of lovers. 

So the fairy put on a human form, keeping her 
beauty and loveliness, but leaving off her wings, 
and wearing bridal clothes. Then they were mar- 
ried in the village church. At the wedding, the 
maidens all marvelled at her wonderful dress and 
veil of silvery gauze. When the honeymoon was 
past, all declared that no more modest, sensible 
and pretty woman had ever come among them, 
while they wondered where Jeannod could have 
met and won so lovely and so good a wife. 

In her new home, the fairy lady seemed to be 
happy every hour. Days sped into weeks, and 
months into years, in the routine of household 
and village life. What with her flowers and her 
cuckoo clock, and her carved wooden spoons, and 
her well set table, and a flower garden, and vines 
on the house wall, that surpassed all her neigh- 
bors, her bee hives and dove cote, the home of 
Jeannod and Silver Wreath was a place of 
beauty and joy. She was at once the delight and 
envy of all the village brides and wives. The 
blossoming plants seemed to thrive and grow 
more beautiful, because she loved them so. On 
her dainty, well spread table, were set the rich- 
est cream, the most transparent and delicious 
honey, and the whitest rolls. Her cheese sur- 
passed in taste everything made by the men in 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


217 


the summer high pastures, who came back in the 
late September autumn, bringing their cheeses, 
which, since June, they had made in the chalets. 
In the chateau of Jeannod and Silver Wreath, 
it seemed to be always summer, and the food had 
the coveted June flavor all the year round. 

While her butter, eggs, honey, milk and cream 
were the best, no one knew where she got such 
wonderful cheese, which excelled all. This was 
on the table, at every meal, and all the year round, 
from New Year’s Day to Christmas Eve, and 
during the holidays. Her husband was not very 
curious and did not ask questions. So long as 
he had plenty tu eat, he was satisfied, for he had 
a good appetite and he loved his fairy wife very 
dearly, and liked to look at her often with sin- 
cere affection. 

While food was plenty, Jeannod always re- 
membered the promise he had made and kept his 
good table manners. He never caused his sweet 
and loving mate to scold, or even to frown. Be- 
cause of his active life, hunger was the best sauce 
to sharpen appetite. Yet he always left a large 
part of the cheese uncut, for good manners. 
Even when returning from a chamois hunt hun- 
gry enough — so he laughingly declared — to swal- 
low a cow, with its horns and tail, he kept at 
once his promise and his politeness to his sweet 
wife. 


2l8 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


But in one year, when midwinter came, the 
cold was so severe, the storms so much more fre- 
quent and the avalanches so much bigger and 
more destructive than usual, that the roads were 
covered, so as to hide even the great landmarks 
out of sight. Then hunting was impossible. The 
wind was so tempestuous, that the strongest men 
kept indoors. Apart from what his wife pro- 
vided, Jeannod could bring little to the table. 
In such terrible weather, Jeannod, unable to use 
his rifle, could not provide meat, and even Silver 
Wreath could furnish only cheese. In such a 
case, the husband was often ravenously hungry, 
and an empty stomach who can bear very long? 
Even when wolves and lions become tame and 
helpless, through hunger, what strong man does 
not become weak? 

One day, after trying many hours, to track a 
chamois, and get within range of it, with his rifle, 
Jeannod came back empty, and very low in his 
mind. He was so fiercely hungry, that he threw 
down his hat and forgot, not only what the edel- 
weiss and Alpine rose had taught him, but even 
what he had promised. 

When he opened the door, into the larder, he 
saw that there was nothing there, but a strip of 
cheese, left over, from the last meal. Indeed it 
was hardly more than a rind. Thinking of noth- 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


219 

ing, but to satisfy his gnawing hunger, he seized 
and bit into it. 

At that moment, Silver Wreath, his wife, en- 
tered the house. She saw him with the cheese in 
his hand, and cried out: 

“Oh, my beloved, remember your promise that 
you would always keep a slice of cheese. Please 
do wait until midnight; and, at breakfast time, 
I promise you, you shall have all you want of the 
best; but now, please, please, leave even a small 
piece over.” 

But the hungry and tired man was too ob- 
stinate to listen. From a thinking being, he had 
become a ravening beast. He gobbled up the 
last fragment. 

No sooner had he swallowed the morsel, than 
his fairy wife cried out, “You’ve broken your 
promise and the rule of good manners in the 
fairy world. I cannot live with a glutton and 
promise-breaker. I must return to my moun- 
tains and fellow-fairies.” 

Thereupon, all her clothing fell off. Her cap 
and comb, and her shoes, stockings and her pretty 
garments, one by one, dropped on the floor. In 
a moment more, her former filmy blue and pink 
robes covered her, wdiile, from her back, grew out 
a pair of wings, like a butterfly’s, but larger, and 
mist-like. Waving a good-bye, she flew out of 
the door, which opened of its own accord. Soon, 


220 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


on the lofty mountain heights, she rejoined her 
fairy family, while the hunter-husband was left 
alone in misery and hunger, and, worse than all, 
with an accusing conscience. 


XXI 


THE FAIRIES’ PALACE CAR 

O NCE upon a time, the fairies that live 
up near the mountain tops got together, 
and one said to another: 

“Let us go travelling.” 

“We’ll go as far as Geneva,” said another. 
“Agreed,” they all shouted in chorus. “It will 
be like going from the North Pole to the Spice 
Islands. We can see all sorts of landscapes and 
go through many climates, before we get to 
Geneva. So let us all begin our journey today!” 

It was not at all strange, that they should all 
start off at once. The fairies had no laundry to 
get home in time, nor new clothes to have made 
and fitted, nor trunks to pack, nor expressmen 
to bother with. There were no tickets to be 
bought, or reserved seats in the cars to look after, 
or handbags to carry, or telegrams to send, or 
letters to write. Neither did they fume or fret, 
because the taxicab man did not arrive on the 
split second. They had no watches to wind up, 
or to look at, lest they might miss the train, nor 
hunting cases to snap, nor sandwiches to carry, 


221 


222 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


in case there were no buffet or dining cars. No! 
Happily for them, all they had to do was to jump 
on their ice-chairs at once, and be off. 

Now let us ask what was their palace car, in 
which they were to journey, from the top of 
Mont Blanc to the Rhone river, and over Lake 
Leman and thence by ship to Geneva the Beauti- 
ful? 

It was nothing less than a glacier, twenty miles 
long and two miles wide. This car, made of 
white snow and ice crystal, moves, as everybody 
knows, steadily along, and down, from mountain 
top to the valley. It does not fly as fast indeed 
as the Empire State lightning express. Yet it 
starts on time, and is sure to arrive at its ter- 
minal. It takes only about a thousand years, 
from the mountain’s tip top to the down below, 
or from snow flake to Rhone river. 

When motion was begun, by the fairies in the 
air, several hundred of them caught, each, a snow 
flake at the summit, and rode on it from the 
clouds to the ground, until enough had fallen 
from the sky to make up the party, which sat, 
all together, on a snow bank, for awhile, till the 
train was all ready. Then the slide downhill 
began. 

Every day the sun would tickle the ice mass 
and melt it, so it had to move on. Then, for the 
fairies, it was like coasting on a bob sled, and 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


223 

they were as merry as if they were on a tobog- 
gan. So they mightily enjoyed the fun. The 
fairies did not have to siL on a narrow line, or 
hold on tight, lest they might fall off, bump 
against a post, or hit a tree, or a rock. 

On the contrary, it was more like going on 
board a big ship, or promenading on the deck of 
an ocean liner. They played ball, and hockey, 
and shuffle board, and danced and waltzed, and 
had guessing and finger games, and leap frog for 
exercise. They sat in the cabins, which were 
crystal ice caverns. They played hide and seek 
in the crevices, and blindman’s buff among the 
ice ridges. They leaped merrily over the ham- 
mocks, and they bathed and swam in the ponds 
of water, which the sun melted every day toward 
noon. In the baths, which lasted several hours, 
they sported around like a lot of mermaids. 

In this way, they so amused themselves, that 
they forgot or did not care to remember the pass- 
ing months, or years, or centuries. They were 
travelling for fun, and had no business or social 
engagements to attend to, or guide books, to tell 
where they were going. So they were in no 
hurry, for the glacier only moved at the rate of 
half an inch an hour, or a few miles in a century. 
What cared they for rapid transit? There were 
no strikes or delay, no subway or tunnel rules, 
no hustler to make you “step lively,” and shut 


224 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


the car door on you, or tell you to “let ’em out,” 
or “watch your steps.” No policeman on foot, 
or motorcycle, to overtake and arrest you for 
speeding! It was all pure fun. 

The fairies had a watcher, who sat on an ice 
pinnacle, like a man in the foretop of an ocean 
steamer. He it was, who announced anything 
new in the weather, or the country, or landscape 
through which they passed. Then, also, a lec- 
turer came aboard, every ten or twenty years, to 
explain the history and point out the wonderful 
things along the route, or what had happened, at 
this or that place. 

These wise prompters were also expected to 
tell what famous trees or flowers lived, along the 
route, and in the various climates. Without a 
telescope, they could see little moving specks, 
looking like flies, or fleas, high up on the eternal 
snows. These were human beings, who had 
either, like wild flowers, escaped cultivation; or, 
perhaps, had fled from prison, or lunatic asylums, 
and were bound to get up to the mountain tops, 
as if their keepers were after them with guns. 
Occasionally an electric railroad, with snorting 
locomotive, on a track and pinion system of cog- 
wheels, with central rail, carried the passengers, 
fat or thin, who could not climb, or who were 
sane, or, it might be, lazy. 

Occasionally, in rambling through the ice halls, 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


225 

the fairies could discern, embedded in the crystal 
walls, black spots. Asking whether these were 
flies in amber, such as they had heard of, they 
were told that these specks were mortals, men 
and women, mountain climbers, who had fallen 
down precipices, or upon the ice, or slipped into 
crevices. Having ended their lives thus, they 
were kept in the crystal for years, until their 
bodies were shot out on the moraines, or washed 
down the rivers. Sometimes the fairies found 
bits of rope and alpen stocks. They even learned 
to tell the difference between blondes and bru- 
nettes. 

Often some of the fairies wondered how it 
would feel to be bom as a baby, and drink milk, 
and eat candy, and first crawl over the floor, and 
then walk and grow up to be a man or a woman. 
They could only guess vaguely what it was to 
die. For that is the curious thing about fairies, 
they cannot die, because they were never born. 
They do not have to grow like human babies, or 
big elephants, or little kangaroos, or be hatched 
out of eggs, like chickens, or wriggle in the 
ponds, or swim in the water like frogs, or fishes, 
or whales, or porpoises. Once in a while, some 
fairy thought she would like to try it, just once, 
to live and die, just to see how it felt, but the 
other fairies, who did not admire her taste, only 
laughed at her. 


226 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


As a rule, these passengers on the glacier did 
not pay close attention to such matters. They 
were not much interested in mortals, but more in 
themselves, for they considered boys and girls, 
and men and women, to be very inferior crea- 
tures. They gave more attention to what they 
saw, as they traveled through the country, chang- 
ing climate every few thousand feet and every 
century or so. 

At first, all was snow, ice and rocks, with no 
birds, shrubs, or trees, or flowers, and not even 
moss. Indeed, some of them grumbled and de- 
clared they would not have left home, if they 
thought they were to see nothing more than mere 
human beings. But very soon, that is, after a 
few years, ten or twenty, perhaps, their ice 
chariot or train had carried them past this old 
scenery. 

Now they began to see mosses and lichens, 
and occasionally a condor, or Alpine eagle, on a 
crag, eating his dinner — perhaps a young lamb, 
or a rabbit, or a marmot, or a chamois kid, or 
something from a cow’s carcass, which the big 
bird of prey had stolen from some butcher’s 
slaughter house. This was the first sign of that 
uncanny thing they called life; which, inside of 
mortals and other animals, makes them move 
about. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


227 

It was a stunning novelty, when the conductor 
called out the name of a new station : 

“Flowers I” 

Then they saw, overhanging the rocks, or near 
the edges of the precipices, or in the crevices and 
crannies of the cliffs, what they called flowers. 
Yet to us folks, who live in the house and nursery, 
these plants, so bundled up in white, hardly 
seemed to be flowers. They rather looked like 
babies, ready to be taken out to ride, for they 
were well swaddled in what appeared to be fur 
or flannel. In fact, their flowers, so called, were 
so woolly, and cushiony, and flat, and low, and 
they kept holding on so hard, as if for dear life, 
in the biting cold wind, that they looked bleak 
and ghostly. Some of these Alpine flowers were 
as downy as a duckling, and as hairy as a poodle. 
But this was to keep the plants warm. For life 
is warm. Death is cold. 

Even more wonderful, to most of these fairies, 
that had lived so long up among the highest 
mountain tops, and had never been lower down 
than eight thousand feet or so, was another love- 
ly sight — that of green meadows, spangled with 
blooms. It was that of the summer pastures. 

Now they began to hear the tinkling of bells 
and saw many cows. They laughed uproarious- 
ly, as they saw that the billy goats waved their 
chin beards, up and down, and stood on their 


228 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


hind legs. On the roofs of the shepherds’ chalets, 
they noticed the big stones. These were laid in 
rows, to keep down the strips of bark or shingles, 
when the tempests roared. While they were 
wondering how funny it must feel, to be a boy or 
a girl, and live in a skin, with clothes on, they 
heard the Alpine horn. While listening to its 
sweet echoes, some of the fairies actually began 
to think that perhaps, after all, mortals might 
have a good time, and, possibly, as much enjoy- 
ment as fairies do, and always have had. Most 
of them, however, scouted the very idea. 

A real epidemic of rapture broke out and went 
through the fairies, like measles among children, 
when they looked upon still greener meadows 
rich in grass, which were spangled with flowers 
and these of the loveliest hues, deep red, scarlet, 
crimson, pink, violet, blue and yellow. They saw 
the Alpine Poa, which the cows love so dearly. 

When the lecturer described its kangaroo-like 
mothers and babies of this family of plants, the 
fairies laughed, so loud and merrily, that some 
of the shepherds thought that a swift horse, with 
a strap of silver sleigh bells, around its neck, was 
galloping over the ice. 

Perhaps the greatest surprise of all was the 
sight of trees, which those fairies who had never 
traveled, had not seen before. In one country, 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


229 


that is, on one level, they found only pines and 
firs, which rocked in the wind. 

Several of the fairies jumped off the train, to 
pick up a handful of pine needles from the 
ground, and to play cradle-swinging in the tree 
branches. They were not afraid of being left 
behind, by the train rushing past them; for, after 
playing two or three years under the trees, these 
passengers jumped on again, and showed hand- 
fuls of the curious things that had fallen off the 
trees, and covered the ground like a brown car- 
pet. Then there were many exclamations of 
wonder among those that had kept on the train. 

Lower down, in another climate, or country, 
or level, they found forests of oak, birch, and 
maple. Yet they could not get any sweets out of 
this Swiss tree, for these fairies did not live in 
America, where the sugar maple grows. 

Every once in a while, the fairy that was the 
conductor would get out and consult the ther- 
mometer. Then, with an air of great wisdom, 
like an owl, or grand daddy, it was announced 
that tomorrow — that is, a year, or two, from that 
date — they would come into a new climate, and 
to such and such a level, or place, so many feet 
above sea. Then they would see this and that 
sort of thing, such as houses, church spires, cheese 
factories, etc. 

At last, having used up their old calendar, 


230 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


through centuries, and into and out of many cli- 
mates, they found that their palace car train had 
itself greatly changed within. In one place, 
where the mountain sides came close together, 
the road narrowed. Then the rate of movement 
slackened, so that the ice forming the train was 
all squeezed up high, and curled, and twisted up, 
like tooth-paste pressed out of a tube. The gla - 
cier was cracked and fissured in every direction. 

Some of the fairies had feared, lest their train 
should run off the track, and bump into a hill, 
and a wreck follow; but the conductor assured 
them all was perfectly safe, and that no acci- 
dents ever happened on that line. One fairy 
tried to quote Latin, having once heard a parson 
say it, in his sermon. In attempting to say Deo 
Volente, she got it Die Volente. So the know- 
ing ones nicknamed this member of their family 
“Dick,” and one, who was very irreverent, called 
her “Slippery Dick.” She did not like a boy’s 
name, but she could not help herself. 

Dick warned them that they were near the end 
of the first part of their journey and that the 
train would stop, when at the level of five thou- 
sand feet. Then the temperature would be so 
high, that they must all be prepared to jump 
overboard and swim. 

At this bit of news, all the family laughed. 
They said they were glad, for already the palace 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


231 


cars had got so wet with the thaw, inside, that 
the ceiling dripped on them continually, the seats 
were slippery, and fast melting away, while as 
for the floor, it was only a puddle, most of the 
time. It was a case of watering stock. After 
all, however, the fairies did not mind it much, and 
they were only in fun, when they pretended to 
grumble. 

At last, the train, after having made a quick 
passage of a thousand years, or thereabouts, ar- 
rived at its terminal. Then it gradually melted 
away, becoming a noisy and very muddy river. 
One after another, the fairies turned themselves 
into water, and slid out into the stream, rolling 
about until they reached the beautiful Lake 
Leman, at the end of which was Geneva. Here 
they expected to pay a brief visit, of four or five 
hundred years, before returning home to the 
mountain tops. 

When they arrived at the entrance of the lake, 
and were well into the deep water, the fairies 
found waiting for them one of the prettiest craft 
that ever floated. It was a galley, of strange 
shape, with a high deck at the bow and the stern. 
There was plenty of room in the middle for the 
fairies to play and dance. With their pretty 
butterfly wings, and lovely gauzy robes, of every 
tint and hue, they looked so sweet ! 

On the prow of the ship stood their Queen, 


232 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


who ruled over the lowlands and lake waters, and 
was captain of this fairy vessel. The smallest of 
the fairies were continually flitting round the 
queen, dropping flowers and fruits, and filling 
the air with perfumes. The vessel had sails of 
the shape called lateen, or leg-of-mutton. These 
were made of embroidered silk and cloth of gold. 
For even more rapid movement, several snow 
white swans, swift of feet and bright of eye, were 
harnessed, with silver chains, to the front part, 
called the cut-water. These drew the ship along 
gracefully, all the time singing in chorus the 
sweetest songs imaginable. Accompanying this 
music was a large golden harp, set in front of 
the mast, and this, whispered to by the winds, 
made, with the swans’ songs, the most delicious 
melody all day long. 

Some of the fairies remembered the echo music 
of the Alpine horn, sent back by the lofty moun- 
tain peaks ; which, however, lasted but a few sec- 
onds. Yet this lake melody continued from sun- 
rise to sunset. 

Whenever the Fairy Ship touched the shore, 
the ground, no matter how hard and stony it had 
been, at once became soft with soil. Then, 
grasses, and flowers, grain farms and orchards, 
and trees rich in luscious fruits, sprang up. 
Every boy and girl, always on the lookout, and 
adults, who were so fortunate as to catch a 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


233 

glimpse of the Fairy Ship, would make a wish in 
their hearts, which was sure to be gratified. They 
got what they wanted, though often in fairy time, 
that is, years afterwards. 

For years and years, the Fairy Ship plied up 
and down the lovely blue lake, stopping here 
and there. A moonlight night was the best time 
for catching a glimpse of it. Many old folks, 
still living, like to tell about the craft of good 
fortune, and also what they then wished for, 
when they were so happy as to see it coming, or 
sailing past them. 

But bye and bye, when the black smoke of 
steamboats poisoned the air, and set the fairies 
sneezing and coughing, and roughened the 
throats of the swans, so that they could not sing 
any more, the Fairy Queen gave up her pleasure 
trips on the lake and ordered the snow fairies 
back to their mountains. 

But, first, the mountain fairies had their visit 
to Geneva, where they saw the pretty shops and 
streets, and there these fairies still live, in the 
hearts of the children. Although nobody ever 
sees them nowadays, the old folks love to talk 
about them, and tell of the lovely times they had 
when children. 

It is certain that the fairies left their blessing 
behind them, for to this day, on the great 
Genevan holiday, in the confectionery shops, on 


234 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


birthday greetings, and on Christmas and New 
Year’s cards, you may see a picture of the Fairy 
Ship, with its brightly colored lateen sails, in- 
scribed with “Good Luck,” or “Happy New 
Year,” or “Many Joyful Returns of the Day.” 
Sometimes, they who receive these cards feel as 
happy as if they had seen the Fairy Ship. 


XXII 


THE WHITE CHAMOIS 

T HE dwarfs and chamois have always been 
good friends. This is chiefly because 
they are so much like each other, in being 
small. The short dwarfs look like little men. 
They have beards, and wear caps and clothes, but 
they are hardly as high as a yard stick, and 
measure up, only to the heads of quite small boys. 
In weight, some of them scarcely reach up to a 
calf. Occasionally, you find a little fellow that 
could be packed in a band box, or carried in a 
suit case. As for the baby dwarfs, one of them 
could be wrapped up in a napkin, and be dropped 
into a man’s overcoat pocket. 

Now the chamois is like the dwarf in this, that 
he is too small to be a goat, and not big enough 
to be a deer. He is a funny fellow to look at. 
His horns are only as long as from your elbow 
to your hand, and are turned around and back- 
wards at the ends, so that they look like a pair 
of big, black fish hooks. He has a yellow head, 
with a dark band on it, and on each cheek is a 
strip of black, as if he were held in, with bridles 
235 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


236 

and bit. His coat of hair is brown, but his funny 
little tail is also black, and, oh, how bright his 
eyes are! 

But when it comes to leaping, from rock to 
rock, the chamois is the Johnny Jump Up, among 
all animals, for he will skip over a chasm fifteen 
feet wide. Then, he will land on a tiny ledge of 
rock, so narrow that one could hardly imagine a 
cat could hold itself on. Putting his hind legs 
first, it gets a good footing, and then bounds 
forward. 

These creatures are so agile, that one almost 
expects to see the strongest of them climb up 
trees, by hooking their horns on the branches, but 
they do not. They cut many capers, but not this 
one. The wonderful thing is that the females, 
as well as the males, have horns also. 

These chamois ladies, and the little folks of 
the family, that is, the doe and fawn, generally 
live down among the lower forests, while the 
daddies and strong young bucks stay, most of 
the time, up among the high rocks and peaks. 
They all eat the lovely flowers, grasses, mosses 
and aromatic herbs, that have a hot taste, and 
which keep them warm inside. 

The very old chamois, with beards, often live 
alone and off by themselves. So the dwarfs and 
chamois are much alike, in this respect, that they 
are both chin choppers, in having hair growing, 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


237 

like a tuft, under their chins, and both are able 
to whistle. For, when a hunter comes near and 
the wind blows from him to them, the sentinel, or 
watchman of the herd gives the alarm, by means 
of a short shrill sound. Then the whole party 
scampers far away. 

Many thousands of stuffed heads of chamois, 
mounted, with their hooked horns and bright, 
artificial eyes, are seen on the walls of Swiss 
hotels and houses. After the invention of the 
rifle, so many chamois were killed, that laws were 
passed which forbade any one hunter to shoot 
more than one hundred during his lifetime. 
Then, when the herds of chamois went further 
and further away, men put telescopes on their 
long-range rifles, and were thus able to kill at a 
great distance — even a mile off. 

Now among these four footed inhabitants of 
the high places near the sky, the white chamois 
is the king of the herds and the pet of the dwarfs. 
No hunter can kill this leader, for he is the prop- 
erty of the fairies. After a man has shot his 
hundredth animal, the white chamois appears, to 
give him warning to stop killing his fellow crea- 
tures. This king of the hook-horns can leap, as 
if it were flying, over chasms. It moves through 
the deep snows far faster than the strongest man 
in the land. 

To the good people, the white chamois is a 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


238 

messenger of joy, telling of the safety of the 
herds, announcing also that there will be much 
sport for the brave hunter, and plenty of meat 
for the people, next summer, and for years to 
come; but, for the bad hunter who breaks the 
law and shoots over a hundred, whether bucks 
or does, or both, the white chamois is the messen- 
ger of death. 

Now there was a very bad man, a hunter 
named Erni, who only said, “pooh pooh,” and 
“fudge,” when an old man informed him that a 
white chamois had been seen near the village, as 
if he had braved danger, in coming so near 
houses, in order to give warning. 

But the man, instead of hanging up his trusty 
rifle on its pegs, sallied out very early one fine 
morning to shoot, if possible, this very creature, 
the white chamois, of which he had heard, but 
had never yet seen. It was still dark in the val- 
ley, when he started, but the man knew it would 
be bright light, by the time he should reach the 
peaks. 

And so it was. Up over the rocks, and across 
the flowery meadows, that were more brilliant, 
with many colors, that any garden ever planted, 
or parlor carpet ever woven, the hunter made his 
way. When he came to the edge of a deep 
ravine, he slung his rifle over his back, and slid 
down. Then he climbed up to the top of a high 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


239 


ridge. Balancing himself on the edge of the 
rocks, he looked across the terrible, yawning 
chasm. With his telescope, he swept the field of 
view, but instead of discerning anything brown, 
with a black tail, he saw, very clearly, a white 
chamois. 

“Now for a good shot,” he thought. “I’ll show 
these old grannies and silly dotards, down in the 
village, what fools they are.” 

He unslung the rifle and then, for a moment 
only, looked down a thousand feet below, to the 
jagged rocks, wondering how he could get the 
body of the white chamois, if the bullet sped to 
its heart, and its carcass fell down. 

But this was only for a second; for the bold 
fellow, familiar from his youth, with the moun- 
tains, laughed at any and all difficulties in his 
path. He was just about to level his weapon and 
take aim, when he heard a loud voice behind him, 
shouting : 

“Erni, pull your cap down over your eyes.” 

Astonished to hear his name called out at such 
a place, and struck with curiosity, he turned to 
see who and what it was. 

There stood a dwarf, cap, beard, and all, with 
a stern look on his face. Pointing to the white 
chamois, he screamed: 

“You had warning enough; down you go!” 

Just then the hunter’s foot, with its hob-nailed 


240 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


shoe, slipped upon a fragment of rock, and he 
fell. Over the cliff, down, down, down, the cruel 
man tumbled. A few minutes later, the Alpine 
condors were quarreling over his corpse. Later, 
the wolves picked his bones, that lay long upon 
the bare rocks. An awful warning! 

After this, the chamois mothers, during the 
summer season, reared their kids in peace and 
quiet and all was happy in the high places, where 
the dwarfs and the chamois dwell as friends to- 
gether. 


XXIII 


THE SIREN OF THE RHINE 

T HE Father of the Fairies, who used to 
live along and under the river Rhine, 
was not able always to control his daugh- 
ters, after they had grown up. One of them, 
named Lorelei, a long time ago, used to appear 
above the current of the great stream, at the 
place where the water dashes over the rocks and 
foams high. It was very hard, in that place, or 
near it, for the sailors to steer their boats, so as 
not to have them dashed to pieces. Only with 
cool heads and strong arms could the boatmen 
get their vessels through in safety. 

But if they should stop, to look at the pretty 
maidens, or to turn their heads to listen to the 
lovely music which they made, then, they were 
sure to lose their heads and have the boat go 
wrong and run upon the rocks. Then, of course, 
every one on board was thrown into the boiling 
waves, and drowned. The rocks are so sharp 
and jagged that, when the boat was upset, the 
poor people were thrown violently against these, 
and, even if spared by the waves, were sure to 
perish. 


241 


242 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


The fairy, named Lorelei, paid no attention to 
their cries, but only laughed at them, as they 
struggled in the water. 

This Lorelei, the chief of the river fairies, was 
never seen during the day, for during the sun- 
light she loved to sit among her jeweled caves, 
and remain far down below in the cool depths of 
the waters. During daylight hours, if any mor- 
tal tried to catch even a glimpse of her, he sought 
in vain. It thus happened that some people, and 
even boatmen on their way down to Rotterdam, 
laughed at the idea of there being a Lorelei, or 
any other fairy among the rocks. 

But when the moon was at its full and shone 
brightest, and its silvery beams seemed to turn 
into a fairy-like gauze, woven of mist and moon- 
beams, the Lorelei was in her happiest mood. 

As soon as the sun was down and twilight fell 
on the earth above, she called for her maidens to 
dress and adorn her lovely form with jewels. 
They plaited part of her golden hair, braiding it 
up over the top of her head and around at the 
back. This made a pretty, cap-like arrangement, 
while behind, and down her back, the other 
tresses fell in ripples, so that, in the faint evening 
wind, it would float out, and gleam, and rise and 
fall fitfully, on the breezes, seemingly now sil- 
very, and again golden, in the moon’s rays. A 
comb of gold, studded with rare gems, added to 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


M3 

the glory of her headdress, which, in the dim light 
from the night skies, would glisten like a cluster 
of stars. 

No ordinary man could resist such a lure, for 
even apart from the entrancing music he would 
assuredly have the curiosity to see what this re- 
splendent figure on the high rock could be. 

So, when Lorelei was arrayed in her gorgeous 
apparel, that so heightened her beauty, this fairy 
would rise out of the current. Then, swimming 
over to the base of the loftiest rock that rose from 
near the river’s shore, she always had her harp 
with her. Perching aloft, on the top of the pin- 
nacle, she would sweep the strings and make the 
most entrancing music. 

Whenever she saw a boatful of mariners, com- 
ing up, or going down, the Rhine, she trilled her 
voice to particular sweetness. Then they could 
see her, among the moonbeams, with her long 
golden hair streaming out on the evening breeze, 
or lightly lifted and rippled, when the zephyrs 
were soft as a breath. It seemed as if her song 
music was loveliest, when the night wind was 
most faintly sighing. 

No matter how vehemently even the most 
stout-hearted sailors might have promised, or 
even vowed, to pay no attention to anything they 
heard, while shooting the rapids, they were sure 
to drop oars and pole, to listen, when the melody 


244 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


floated through the air. Then, the man who 
steered and had been the loudest, in saying that 
he would clap his hand over his ears, and be deaf 
to any strains, however sweet, was always the 
first to weaken. He would stand still, as if shot 
through, with an arrow, and forget all about his 
duties at the rudder. Then, very quickly, the 
boat would strike against the rocks. In a mo- 
ment more, the whole crew would be struggling, 
soon to sink under the / waves, while the boat 
drifted along, bottom upwards. In their last 
moments, the drowning men heard the fairies 
laughing, as if they were enjoying good sport. 

Now it is said that the only one who ever 
basked in the favor of the Lorelei, was a young 
and very good looking fisherman’s son, named 
Ulric. He was his mother’s darling and his 
father’s pride, yet none of his brothers were 
jealous of him. 

Whenever he appeared at night, the Lorelei 
would get down from her rock throne, and walk 
along the river’s strand to welcome the hand- 
some lad. He never, however he might seek dili- 
gently, or call loudly, could find her, or catch a 
single glimpse of her, by day; but the moment 
he met her at night he would be in raptures over 
her beauty. 

Sometimes she would sing for him, so that he 
never knew how fast the hours sped away. It 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


245 


was often midnight, before Ulric reached home, 
and, once in a while, it was near daybreak in the 
east. 

But, always before parting from him, Lorelei 
would point out to her lover the place in the river, 
where, on the next morning, the fish would be 
found most plentifully. 

Ulric would then tell his father, and brothers, 
where to cast their nets, and then they always 
drew up a good boat load of fish. These they 
sold in the market at a high price, and so had 
nice clothes and plenty to eat. So they never 
asked Ulric where he had been, so long, the night 
before, and why he reached home after the house- 
hold were all in bed, and only their faithful dog 
Fritz kept watch at the door. 

His mother warned her youngest son not to 
go and see the Lorelei too often, but he only 
laughed, kissed her, and said he could stop going 
when he wanted to; which is the way many boys 
and girls talk, not knowing the power of habit, 
which binds like a chain. 

But one night, the old fisherman’s son did not 
return, and in the morning, when his mother 
looked into his room, expecting to call and wake 
him, she found it empty. The bed was in per- 
fect order, as if no one had slept in it. Putting 
her hand under the covers, she found no warmth. 

At once, she gave the alarm to her husband 


246 SWISS FAIRY TALES 

and sons, who were then at their breakfast. 
Taking their faithful dog with them, they at once 
set out to find the lad. All day long, they 
searched among the reeds, along the river hank, 
along the rocks, and even in the woods and on 
the hills; but no sign of son and brother was 
found. It was believed that the siren Lorelei, 
madly in love with the handsome boy, and, 
though in the form of a pretty woman, having 
no human heart to feel for his mother, had 
dragged him down into her caves under the river 
and deep in the earth, to enjoy him as her com- 
panion forever. 

Bye and bye, so many sailors having been 
drowned, and so large a number of merchants 
having lost their precious treasures, in the 
wrecked boats, it was determined to send a band 
of brave men to seize the Lorelei, and bind her 
as a prisoner. If she resisted, she was to be put 
to death. Thus a danger, to be dreaded more 
than jagged rocks, or treacherous currents, 
would be taken away. Then the merchants, in 
Cologne and Rotterdam, would be made happy, 
by piling up fortunes to enjoy and leave to their 
children. 

Before starting on the expedition to capture 
the siren, every man was taken into the cathedral, 
and, before the altar, made to cross himself on 
the breast, and swear not to listen to the Lore- 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


247 


lei’s song. All of them wore helmets, with thick 
padded ear muffs, coming down over their ears, 
and tied tight. All the orders of the captain 
were to be given by signs without his speaking a 
word. 

But what availed arrows, swords, and spears, 
helmets and armor, and what were the strong 
muscles of brave men, against a beautiful fairy? 
When the company had landed, silently, on the 
shore, without endangering their boats, by going 
near the rocks, they suddenly found that they 
could not move; for the Lorelei had cast a spell 
over them, so that not one could lift hand or foot. 
All night long, the captain and his soldiers stood 
upright and motionless, as if made of wax and 
in a museum, while the monbeams were reflected 
from their helmets, weapons and armor. 

Yet during all these night hours, they had the 
power of eyesight. They saw all that was going 
on, and this was what they witnessed. 

Just as the first gleams of the upcoming sun 
were beginning to streak the midnight blue of 
the skies, with light, and make rosy the east, but 
while, at the same time, the moon cast a pale light 
on the strange scene, they discerned plainly the 
Lorelei. She was standing on the highest 
pointed rock that rose out of the Rhine. There, 
the beautiful creature was, as if in a waiting atti- 
tude, before a mirror, and about to retire to her 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


248 

bed for sleep. She took off* all her ornaments 
and jewels. She unbound the bands of her shin- 
ing hair, and unplaited the braids, until her 
tresses fell, in one glorious mass, like a cataract 
of gold. She threw away, one by one, her comb, 
her girdle, her splendid robes, and each of her 
pearls and gems, into the foaming waters. Then 
she chanted a spell, to draw the waters up to the 
very top of the rock, until the wavelets rolled 
over her shining feet. 

At this moment, two white horses, with long 
flowing manes, rose up, pawing and snorting, out 
of the flood. In golden harness, they drew a 
chariot, made of a single emerald, with sapphire 
wheels. She mounted within the vehicle and at a 
word from the siren, the steeds drove away, with 
the swiftness of a lightning flash, and disap- 
peared. 

Gradually the river subsided to its usual low 
level. Minute by minute passed, and the spell 
over the soldiers was gradually broken. First, 
they could move their toes ; then, their fingers ; 
and, after a while, their arms and legs. When 
at last, by a sign, the captain gave the order to 
march, they faced about, towards the river. Em- 
barking on their boats, they rowed down the 
Rhine to Basel and Cologne, and told their weird 
story. 

Never again was the Lorelei seen by man. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


249 


The people, who live around the old place of 
moonlight music, say that the siren felt insulted 
at this invasion of her domain. In her view, what 
were the lives of a few sailors, and the loss of one 
fisherman’s son, for a lover, compared with such 
music as she gave so freely? 

So, to punish foolish men, she has never again 
left her shining caves, under the Rhine, to appear 
on earth. Yet, inspired by her example, the 
musicians have continued her sweet music, while 
the poets never weary of telling her story in their 
rhymes and stanzas. 


XXIV 


THE ASS THAT SAW THE ANGEL 

I N that part of the Swiss Republic, called the 
Grisons, there is a sharp mountain, thin and 
round, like a horn. Because it is red, its 
name has always been Rothhorn, or Red Peak. 

In one of the towns near by, lived a proud 
man, named Gruntli, who scouted the idea of 
there being any fairies, or Santa Claus. To his 
view, there was no intelligence, or virtue, in dumb 
brutes. He did not believe in anything but what 
he could see, taste, smell, hear, or handle with 
his ten fingers. This was what he called 
“science.” 

This old fellow, Gruntli, boasted of being “a 
man of science.” He considered that everything 
belonging to religion was superstition. Mule 
drivers, cow milkers, cheese makers, and such 
folk, whom he called “the ignorant common peo- 
ple,” might have faith in such things, but not he. 

Gruntli was rich. He had a large house, with 
one room full of books, but not one of these con- 
tained any poetry, or stories, or novels, or ro- 
mances. He sneered at anybody who said they 
250 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


251 


believed in Santa Claus, and he openly insulted 
people who loved to think that William Tell, 
their national hero, ever lived. As for the ex- 
ploits of Joan of Arc, or of Arnold of Winkle- 
reid, he used to say that what was told of them 
was only the same as nursery stories. 

Nobody loved Gruntli, for he was a hard mas- 
ter with his servants. Though he called himself 
“a man of science,” and sneered at the village 
folks, when they went to church on Sunday, he 
did nothing to help the poor people of the valley. 

Part of the wealth, of this hard-hearted man, 
consisted in mules, of which he had twenty or 
more. These were sumpters, or pack animals, 
that carried the milk, butter, cheese, and produce 
of the valley, to be sold in the nearest large city, 
and to bring back what was needed. 

Gruntli’s favorite animal for the saddle was a 
pure-blooded white ass, which his father had 
given him, when a boy, so that he and the dumb 
brute were well acquainted with each other. 
Large in size and imposing in appearance, this 
animal was named Julius Csesar; or, for short, 
“Gulick,” for that was the way the great Roman 
conqueror’s name was pronounced in the local 
dialect. 

People used to say that this donkey was the 
only living creature for which Gruntli cared, or 
had any affection; or, that he even treated de- 


252 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


cently. Occasionally, his master would allow 
this, his favorite beast, to be ridden by his over- 
seer, or chief clerk — a privilege on which this 
head man set great store. The sure-footed crea- 
ture carried its rider over the most dangerous 
passes. It seemed almost a miracle, the way in 
which, along narrow ledges of rock, the ass 
moved as if on a well-paved road. 

Gulick seemed to measure with its eye, and 
gauge the width necessary, even making allow- 
ance for its load, for the pack saddle, or for the 
knees of the rider; so that, though a dumb beast, 
its reputation for safety was great in all the re- 
gion. Muleteers often used to scold their stub- 
born animals, by calling them “rabbit-eared 
fools,” and "not worth one hoof of Gulick,” the 
paragon among long eared animals. 

Nevertheless, there were times, when the don- 
key, Gulick, showed that it had a mind of its 
own. Then it could be stubborn, too. But this 
was what men thought, and not the animal’s own 
opinion of itself. This usually took place, when 
it saw that the path ahead, or the ledge of rock, 
over which it was expected to pass, with a pack 
load, or a stout lady in the saddle, or a big fat 
fellow, with both legs far out and taking up the 
room, between the ass and the rock. 

Then, no amount of scolding, yelling, bad tem- 
per, hard names, or even beating, could move 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


253 


the creature. The only thing to do was to get 
off and unload. In fact, the ass had a very poor 
opinion of some human beings. He even pitied 
them, because they had only two legs, while don- 
keys had four. 

Not once, in all its long life, did Gulick lose 
its way, slip, fall down, or have an accident. I11 
fact, its master could go to sleep, while riding 
home. When, as was often the case, the man was 
too full of strong wine, to sit up straight, this 
was a good thing; for a sober donkey has more 
brains than a drunken man. 

Some people, who believed in fairies, even 
thought that Gulick was really a human being 
who, for doing something wicked, in another 
world, had been changed, by a fairy, into this 
creature with the shaggy hide, ropy tail and ears 
like a jack rabbit’s. 

An event, that seemed to furnish a fresh foun- 
dation for the common belief, took place near 
the village of Plurs. Then, the general idea, 
that a man had, somehow, got into an ass’s skin, 
was confirmed. 

One night, Gruntli’s overseer was returning 
from Zurich. He reached the village of Plurs, 
late at night. There, the wine being good and 
the stabling cheap, he expected to make his stay, 
until next morning. So, stepping into the wine 
room, and calling for the hostler, he sat down 


2 54 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


before the table, thinking that all was right, 
according to the usual way of beasts and man, 
until morning. 

But when the stable boy went outdoors, he 
found the line of mules was some distance up the 
road, and that Gulick was leading them. 

Running after the train, he brought the ani- 
mals back, to the inn; but when, for a moment, 
being at the end of the line, he left the beasts, 
to open the stable door, off trotted Gulick and 
all the donkeys after their leader. 

So the boy had another run and was in very 
bad temper. He seized the bridle of Gulick, and 
gave such a jerk, in his anger, that he nearly 
broke the strap, and pained the animal’s jaw. 

Nevertheless, for a third time, the sagacious 
beast ran away. When the stable boy, out of 
patience, rushed into the wine room, and told the 
overseer of the strange behavior of his donkey, 
Gulick, the man had sense enough to follow the 
mule train. 

Well for him and his master, that he did so, 
for, when hearing a frightful noise, he looked 
behind him, from the top of the hill, he saw a 
landslide, from the mountain flank, wipe out the 
whole town, leaving the houses, people and cat- 
tle buried under one white pall of earth, rock and 
snow. 

After this, one would suppose that the owner 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


255 

of Gulick would fully trust the animal’s wonder- 
ful instinct and unerring vision, as well as his 
sure footedness. 

But this man, Gruntli was, as he called him- 
self, “too much of a man of science” to consider 
such an affair, as that of Gulick and the land- 
slide, as anything but an accident, a coincidence, 
or, as an example of “the doctrine of averages.” 

Wishing, however, to see the ruin wrought by 
the landslide, he mounted Gulick, clapped his 
ankles against the animal’s sides, and was off. 
Gruntli wore spurs, more for show than for use, 
for Gulick instantly obeyed the pull of his mas- 
ter’s bridle, or the clap of his foot, and never 
was known to need urging. So there never had 
been any blood on the points of Gruntli’s spurs. 

But this day, the master was in very bad 
humor, because seven of his houses, which he 
owned in the village, were now destroyed. 
Much of his income was thus lost, for he could 
no longer collect rents from the people who had 
been his tenants. 

Now, as they were jogging along, and ap- 
proached near the scene of yesterday’s horror, 
the ass suddenly stopped with a jerk, that threw 
its master forward, and nearly off the saddle. 

There, in front of the animal in the middle of 
the road, stood an angel holding a naked sword. 
Of course, Gruntli could not see anything, for 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


256 

his soul had nearly shriveled up, and Gulick had 
never before met such a being. Yet the ass, even 
though it was a dumb brute, had enough sense 
to know that it dare not, and ought not, to rush 
up against the apparition, whatever it might be. 
Had it been rock, stone, ice, a mountain path, 
a chamois, or anything usual, the Swiss donkey 
would have known what to do. But before such 
an unusual sight, Gulick stood still. 

As for Gruntli, he, being a self-styled “man of 
science,” without any faith, and very little imagi- 
nation, could see nothing. So, when Gulick, to 
get out of the way, turned aside and out of the 
road, to make its way through the field, Gruntli, 
getting very angry, beat the animal and in his 
bad temper, even laid on several blows with his 
whip handle. 

At this unusual action of his master, the ass 
was so surprised, that he actually stopped. He 
turned round, gave a rebuking glance at Gruntli, 
and then tried to go on, but in vain. 

Then the man, in a worse temper than ever, 
not only beat the dumb brute again, but he drove 
his spurs into the sides of the faithful beast, until 
little drops of blood dropped on the ground. 

At this, even patient Gulick lost his donkey 
temper, and lifting one of his hind legs tried to 
kick the man’s heels. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


257 

This enraged Gruntli still further, and he cried 
out: 

“You stupid beast! If you want to climb up 
into the saddle and ride yourself, I’ll jump off.” 

Then he clutched his whip more tightly, ex- 
pecting to get down and thrash the animal with 
all his strength. 

But Gulick moved on, the road narrowing 
down, between rocks, as many bridle paths in 
Switzerland do. Yet no sooner had the intelli- 
gent beast entered into the shadow, than again 
a shining angel appeared in the path in front of 
them, but this time in a threatening manner, and 
waving his glittering sword. 

Startled at the sight, the ass again stopped, 
hoping its master would treat his own beast more 
kindly and see what was the matter. 

But angry men are nearly always blind, and 
sometimes half insane, or even wholly so. 
Gruntli once more drove his already bloody 
spurs into Guliek’s side. 

At this, stung with pain, and fearing to rush 
against the angel, the beast dashed sideways 
against the rocky wall. 

Maddened, almost to insanity, at this action, 
and smarting with a crushed ankle, Gruntli beat 
the ass with repeated and cruel blows. 

In spite of such inhuman treatment, and even 
more awed by the apparition, than by the agony 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


258 

it was suffering, the ass lay down flat under its 
rider, though without hurting him. It turned 
its head around and looked at him, as if in stern 
rebuke, at this treating an old friend, that had 
ever served faithfully. 

Unmoved by the beseeching look in the eyes of 
what had been his pet, since childhood, Gruntli, 
in a fresh fury of rage, bellowed out: 

“I just wish I had a sword to kill you,” and 
he rained blow upon blow on his faithful brute. 

Then he jumped off the saddle, and, leaving 
Gulick in the rocky path, walked forward a few 
rods. All the time he was wondering what had 
so disturbed and checked the brute. 

One look, as he turned away to the brow of 
the mountain, revealed to him a scene of fright- 
ful desolation. Rocks, gravel, ice, snow, and 
general debris, covered what had been his seven 
houses, and tenants and their cattle. Looking 
up, he noticed that the face of the mountain, 
whence the mass of earth had slipped down, was 
greatly changed in form. 

Nevertheless, the landslide, for so it was, had 
opened a view, impossible before, of a rich pas- 
ture, where many kine were grazing. Looking 
intently at a cow that, having filled its stomach 
with grass, was about to lie down, Gruntli no- 
ticed that, before doing so, the dumb animal fell, 
first, on its front knees. 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


259 


“Now I see that I am a fool,” he cried, as he 
beat upon his breast. “That cow has more re- 
ligion than I, for it kneels before it lies down; 
while, before tumbling into bed, my knee has been 
unbent, this many a year.” 

Then going back, he patted the neck of his 
faithful Gulick, washed off the blood stains, 
threw his spurs away, and spoke so kindly to the 
ass, that it rose up, and actually began frisking 
around. Then it sidled up close to Gruntli, and 
seemed to invite him to get on its back again. 

This the man did, and, riding to where the vil- 
lage had been, organized a corps of relief to 
help the wounded and hungry, who were left 
alive, and he paid for medicines out of his own 
purse. Then he built new and better houses for 
his tenants, the survivors, and for those who 
came from other parts of the Swiss country. 

And when later, a devout worshipper in 
church and helper of his fellow men, Gruntli 
cared for and fed his ass Gulick, in a comfortable 
stable, until at last the beast died at a good old 
age. 

The pastor of the rebuilt village came one day, 
and asked Gruntli to tell the story of his great 
change and the reason of it. Then the man made 
answer as follows: 

“When it came to pass that an ass could see an 
angel before I, a man of science, could discern, 


26 o 


SWISS FAIRY TALES 


or hear him, I thought it time to believe. So I 
at once exchanged science, so called, for faith, as 
a little child, and, my pride of knowledge for 
help to my fellow men.” 


THE END. 


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